Shadow Bound
by Pleading Eyes
Summary: Malon often felt like Link's shadow, bound to him, following at his heels, only to have him never notice her. Until the fateful night she encountered Link's true shadow, and discovered its nature to be far more sinister.
1. A Place I've Never Been

**Inspiration:** The Legend of Zelda series is by far my favorite series of video games ever! (I know! A girl gamer! What a shock!) Anyway, as much as I love our hero and the princess he constantly rescues, I decided I wanted to write something about two of the less appreciated characters. Here's the result!

**Disclaimer:** You know the drill! All the characters you know are from The Legend of Zelda are obviously not mine and I have no claims on them. But any you don't know probably are mine, as are the fantastical situations the characters are placed in; which spring from the dangerous combination of creativity and boredom.

**C****larification:** Characters based mostly on Ocarina of Time, except for Shadow Link which is based on Four Swords Adventures. I do take partly from the official Zelda mangas by Akira Himegawa. I know many people consider the manga noncanon, but they are still wonderful and deserve a read!

**Shadow Bound  
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**A Place I've Never Been**

She was up before the sun. Working, milking, feeding, cleaning, dusting, washing, scrubbing, lifting, pushing, bottling, carrying, moving, grooming, sweeping, collecting, feeding again… Such is the life of the ranch hand. Malon did not hide her humble life, though her beauty would have allowed it, she wasn't a princess. Neither was she the daughter of a particularly wealthy man. She was a simple farm girl with a penchant for song.

Of course, this isn't to say she was clear of self-deception. For, like any thinking being, she did dream of better things. It had started with a story her mother had told her as a little girl; about a poor farm girl who was rescued by a charming prince riding a white horse. And though her mother had passed not too long after, though her father was a kind but horribly lazy man, though she worked from dawn to dusk everyday save Sundays, and though she had just recently come into her eighteenth year, a secret part of her had never stopped believing.

Behind those bright eyes and chocolate hair, which seemed almost crimson in the country sun, she held the child's story dear in her breast. So while she worked hard, she still dreamed during the day, and waited at night. She sang when she waited, she realized. When she was a little girl, she had been waiting for her mother. Although she was dead, although Malon knew the dead do not return, she had waited.

When she had outgrown serenading ghosts, she had cried a little. There was nothing more painful than admitting to yourself that the one you love most was never coming back. For a while Talon and Ingo had been worried, the strong-willed little songbird had even ceased to sing.

But then the little colt had appeared. It was orphaned, or abandoned, no one could be sure. At first Ingo had thought to tame it, but the creature had a soul as wild as the winds that run through Hyrule plain. It would let no-one near, yet lacked the ability to sustain itself. Eventually Ingo had decided to humanely end its life, it would be better than leaving it to starve.

Of course Malon, kind hearted by nature, intervened. She had insisted to Ingo and her father Talon to give her a chance to tame the pretty little colt. It was the most spirit the ranchers had seen in the girl for months. How could they deny her?

It wasn't easy. The colt bolted whenever one came near and stamped upon anything it was offered. Malon was patient, Malon was kind. By the third night she became discouraged and wanted to cry. But her tears had been so long exclusive to her mother, it seemed wrong to waste them. So instead she sang to alleviate her grief. And then, something amazing happened.

Memorized by lyric beauty, the colt had come. Shyly, and slowly, of course, but it came. Malon sang a song of her mother's to the wild colt, touching its chocolate, almost crimson pelt. "We match." Malon said with a smile. "And my dress is white, like your mane. Like we're inverted!" The colt whinnied and nuzzled against her face. Malon learned then that the colt had only been frightened. The wild, angry, outbursts had been but a façade to hide uncertainty. But all was right now and Malon dubbed the wild little colt Epona for, now close enough to be inspected, it was discovered to be female.

Epona had, in many ways, been Malon's saving grace. The brazen thing only trusted Malon, and caring for it became a reason for Malon to do more than mourn the departed. So the little girl moved on, with a true friend she vowed to keep close forever. It was a more comfortable way to view the world, at least for a lonely little girl. A lonely little girl who sang at night, holding her little colt close and singing to the moon for a Prince Charming she never really expected to come.

How could Malon have known that one day he would come and change her reality all over again?

He was a sight, to say the least. Blond lemon-drop hair with eyes to match the deep of the sky. His clothes were of a strange fashion, as green as the forest itself. And the little winged light that followed him, as he dashed from place to place as if on some important secret agenda. But for this winged light, he seemed always alone.

She had met him only twice as a child. Once, running through the market place, she had caught a glimpse of him. She did not remember now, if they had really even exchanged a word. It all seemed so long ago to her; buried amongst the routine of everyday and the dreams of every night. The second time he had come to her, or more specifically to the ranch.

He was probably in search of Lon Lon Ranch's famous milk. Or perhaps he had simply become lost on his journey. Whatever the reason, she had recognized him immediately. And with lack of a name she had hailed him Fairy Boy, for the ever present winged light sparkling not too far behind him.

He had not stayed long, but for enough time to play for the night. It was not often that Malon found herself with a playmate, and even less often with one so unique. There was an honesty, a simplicity about him she had never sensed in another. She couldn't help but trust him, so she let him into her world of songs and secret games to disguise the farm work. She taught him her mother's song, which she had since named Epona's Song.

The boy had a talent for the ocarina and echoed her notes flawlessly. Upon hearing their sacred song, the colt had rushed up. "She's grown fond of you, Fairy Boy!" Malon had exclaimed ecstatically, for never before had Epona come close to another.

Then the boy had left and Malon felt certain he would return to play again. He was different, after all. Epona had trusted him. The song had accepted him.

The boy didn't return and with time Malon stopped waiting. She matured and playmates no longer remained her greatest interest. Strangely, childhood stories of Princes did. More often than not she found herself singing to the moon, again for the Prince she knew would come for her. She had been promised, after all!

The disaster came; when Ingo fell to madness and drove Talon away. Malon was kept prisoner, the horses were beaten, customers ceased to visit the most famous milk ranch. It was the worst time Lon Lon Ranch had ever seen, at least in Malon's lifetime. She was not so much afraid; for she knew, mad or not, Ingo would not harm her. It was more a quiet desperation that took her, as her life outside the barn all but disappeared. And Epona—oh Epona! She was to be taken to the dark King Ganondorf! What life would there be, held in pointless bondage, without even her dearest friend for company?

Then he had returned. She could not place him at first, changed as he was. He had grown so tall, and the roundness had left his face. His jaw had become chiseled, strong. His body angular and exciting! How could she have recognized him?

When he burst in through the roof, claming to have come to her rescue, what should she have done besides dismissed him? "I'm Link!" He had declared, but Malon had never known any link save the ones that made up the chains in the barn.

She had recited to him the story of the Prince that would eventually save her, riding his white horse. "Your horse is brown." She had said with a sigh. "A bit red, maybe. But not whi-" Familiarity struck a chord. That horse was one she knew. Epona hadn't been taken to the dark King!

A winged light floated beside her and memories, long locked away, had flooded back in a fluid rush. "Fairy Boy." It was an insult now, of course. With age such names developed negative connotations. Link had only groaned and politely asked to be addressed by name.

Malon had responded by throwing her arms around him, letting him take her away from all of this nothing. He was her Prince. There could be no other! A horse by any other color would still ride as swiftly!

But then that strange Sheikah had appeared, plucking at his harp and spouting cryptic clues about the long missing Princess' whereabouts. Link had become flushed, ardently demanding to know more. Malon had stilled, knowing. Knowing before Link, yes it was obvious Link didn't know! But Malon knew. Just by staring at those cerulean eyes, alit with fire as she had never seen them, she knew. Another had claimed him, and what match was she for a princess? _The_ princess, no less!

Ingo's senses had been returned. Malon wasn't quite sure how Link had managed to do so, but she didn't ask. Talon returned as well; admitting he had gone for help and fallen asleep, as he often did.

Then Link left. He took Epona with him. Malon didn't protest, the horse adored him! And why wouldn't she? Who was Malon to deny Epona the owner she waned, especially out of bitterness at losing her Prince? So she called it a gift and went about her way. Business picked up, work returned, routine settled back in. Lon Lon Ranch was once again prosperous.

He still visited sometimes, for milk or repairs on his saddle. On occasion he borrowed tools to groom Epona. Malon never spoke to him much, but for a casual conversation or a friendly wave. He didn't seem to mind and Malon didn't want to hinder him. Still, every time she heard Epona's distinctive neigh, Malon rushed to her window or hurried to hide behind the Cucco coop to see if she could catch a glimpse of him. He was gorgeous beyond anything Malon had ever seen and her heart still raced at the mere though of him.

There had been no announcement of Princess Zelda's wedding, and no rumors of a suitor. So then there was still hope. There was still time.

And yet there wasn't. Malon knew it wouldn't happen. She was nothing special to him, but another familiar face from his many travels. He had met so many women, of high-rank, of different ethnicities and species even. Why would one farm girl matter? Why would one farm girl stick out in his mind, when Hyrule alone had so much more to offer?

So thus became Malon's new reality. She woke in the morning, worked in the afternoon, sang for him in the evening, and slept with dreams of him at night. No more, no less. One could think it was an empty existence, but Malon was happy, if not unfulfilled. Every time she heard even a whisper of his voice, she counted the months until he would reappear. Waiting was not so painful, not as long as she wished. Sometimes she'd imagine he'd come in and she wouldn't notice, she wouldn't rush into a hiding place to watch him, and he'd walk up behind her. He'd tap her playfully, asking for assistance, and she'd serve. They'd talk, but not worthless jabber like 'how are you, I am fine.' No, she'd ask him about his travels, and he'd share. Then he'd ask about her life and she'd confess. She'd confess how her life was nothing more than what he saw, with the added element of her love for him. She'd tell him how she waited, how she hoped, how she loved him more than any other person ever could, and how happy she was to have left Epona in his care.

Of course, she'd never really say such things. Surely he'd heard similar themes a million times from a thousand foolish girls. He'd think it a silly crush, a girlish obsession. He'd be uncomfortable with her after, wouldn't want her help. He'd avoid her, perhaps even find another place. She had once overheard him mention a Romani's Ranch. Oh, how she hung on his words!

She had tried many times to rid herself of these feelings. They were distracting. They were painful. They were frustrating.

And yet she couldn't. Her whole world was centered around these feelings and, try as she might, she could not be rid of them. She'd dismiss all thoughts of him; only to have them haunt her when she dropped her guard, or to catch a glimpse of him riding towards Hyrule castle and melt at the sight. And what else did her life hold for her but this dream anyway?

It was a paradox. She could not forget Link because she wanted more out of life. And she could not stop wanting more out of life because she could not forget Link. A vicious, beautiful cycle. Damn irony to the void!

She was, in so many ways, his shadow. Always following at his heels, whether around the ranch or in her dreams. More so even, for his shadow left him when the light faded, while her thoughts of him never grew dim.

So the cycle went on, and after a while Malon stopped fighting it. Though her strong-will bid her never give up, Malon gave in. She loved Link, more than she dared ever say. But she would just have to accept her love as a dream, nothing more. She could live like that. People need love to live, her stubborn nature argued. But unrequited love was still love. Yes, she could live like that.

At least, she would have to.

Then it happened. Inconveniently, just as she was settling in, her reality was toppled all over again.

Retiring to bed one night, a sparkle in the distance caught Malon's eye. It was outside of the ranch, and venturing out into the field in the dark was not very safe. But it didn't seem too far off, and the chance that it could be Link resting by a stream was too great an opportunity to pass up. She was eighteen now, well into a marriageable age. If ever there was a chance to confess her heart, even if to be rejected, even if just to lessen the leaden weight in her chest, then now was it!

He probably wouldn't accept her love, but Link was a kind and generous man. He'd most likely thank her and pat her head, offer to escort her home as if she was a child. Malon knew this, and still she felt her pulse rushing. Just to see him, alone, at night. She had to tell him, she _had_ to.

Her every second of waiting and dreaming had culminated in this moment. And if he refused her, at least she had her moment, forever held somewhere in time, where the Goddesses could forever see Malon, really see her.

She quietly stepped into the barn, dusting the lamp and tilting the oil barrel into the tip; filling it. Malon turned the knob carefully, slowly, allowing the light to grow bright enough to see, but not so bright as to wake Ingo. Her father wouldn't wake, she knew. Sleep was what the man did best.

Gently, on tiptoe, Malon crept out beyond the ranch's gates. The wind was nipping and the night was icy cold. Malon clutched the shawl around her neck for warmth and continued, the winds blowing her skirts and hair roughly in the air.

And though she held the oil lamp firmly in hand, the rapid winds proved too much and knocked it out of grip. The lamp fell to the grass and shattered. For a split moment, Malon feared the field would catch aflame. But it had begun to sprinkle and the mess was doused in an instant. Relief, however, was short as Malon found herself in darkness.

Just ahead the sparkle continued to shine, like a misplaced star. Now she had no choice but to follow. The rain was packing. She'd need Link's assistance to make it home.

She neared the stream, the sound of rushing water a chilling warning of flood if the rains continued. There he lay, perfect, gorgeous, as always. So peaceful, so curiously halfway into the stream. For a moment Malon thought he might be bathing and blushed fiercely. Then she noticed his stillness; the absurdity of bathing on a freezing night, with blistering winds, in the rain.

"Link?" She murmured softly, more to herself than to him as if the sound of his name would assure her of his presence. She crouched closer. He made no move.

It was then a murkiness in the stream caught Malon's attention. It was a dark fluid, and it seemed to be seeping out of Link's very body. "Blood!" She shrieked in a sudden dread insight. But as quickly as the fluid had appeared, it evaporated into black smoke and vanished. Malon sat, stark still and wide-eyed. A while passed, rain began to pour mercilessly. Malon felt herself go numb with cold, and still she did not move.

The assumed Link groaned, snapping Malon out of her stupor. She had no intimation as to what had happened minutes prior, but if Link really had been bleeding then he needed medical attention! Stealing her strength, Malon wove her arms through Link's and pulled, hauling him across the muddied fields. Her boots squished and sank beneath her, too often coming precariously close to slipping.

Link was surprisingly light for his height, though Malon accredited it to her own strength at the time. She was a ranch hand. She had worked hard her whole life; that was training in itself.

She could not see where she was going in the dark, granted she was also pulling backwards. But she knew the ranch was not too far from the stream, so she pulled until she hit a wall. There she slid her back against the wall, praying to he Goddesses in the right direction, to find the entrance. Malon pulled hard and kept her grip firm. She could not breathe from all the water on her face. She was drenched to the bone, and freezing beyond all feeling. She would not look down at her skirts, knowing they were mud-encrusted beyond restoration.

She held tight, his skin slick against hers, causing him to slip. But Malon held fast and hurried, her back aching. Finally her efforts were rewarded. With an additional push of will, Malon managed to drag Link into her home. She placed him gently as she could on a pile of hay. The rooms were upstairs, but she did not think she could make the trip with his burden. Instead she slunk up silently to fetch clean blankets and a pillow, returning to tuck him in.

She was quick and quiet, frightened for his health yet secretly thrilled. She was saving the hero! A simple farm girl! What a concept! Irony was not so terrible.

Malon fetched another oil lamp, the one belonging to Ingo, and brought it close to examine his wounds. She saw none, but instead found something much more disturbing.

Link's normally peachy complexion was now a swarthy grey. His golden hair had become a sinister silver. In place of forest green, he wore a tunic black as soot. And his eyes, eyes as warm and blue as the summer sky, were now two red orbs blazing into her.

He was awake.

It was awake.

Malon took a breath to scream but the pseudo-Link pulled her down beside him. "Shh." He whispered smugly, a sardonic smile twisting his lips. "You'll wake the others."

Malon was not a flighty girl. She did not jump on chairs at the sight of a spider. She feared little and stood up to much. What made this situation in particular all the more alarming was this imposter's uncanny resemblance to her Prince. But for the discoloration of his features, he was Link.

Malon pushed herself out of his grasp. The imposter made no move against her escape, thus Malon made no attempt to scream. Instead she stared for a moment more at those mocking eyes, boring into her hotly. Then she turned and dashed up the stairs to her room, locking the door behind her.

She had once overheard Link tell of an adventure where he had battled himself, or more specifically his shadow. An evil shadow, who murdered and felt nothing. Malon backed away from the door. Her legs, exhausted from overexertion and panic, collapsed beneath her. She crumpled to the floor; weak, confused, and frightened.

She had just invited death into her home.

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Please review and tell me what you think! I was considering expanding this into a full story, but I like it as a one-shot too. 

What do you think? Continue? Keep it short but sweet? Take it down because it is the worst thing Zelda-related since the CD-I games? (Eep! I hope to the Goddesses that it's not!)

Thank you for reading!


	2. Much Higher Than Before

Thank you to everyone for reviewing and for encouraging me to expand this into a full story.

I have quite a few ideas about where this could go so I'm actually kinda excited to see how this pans out!**  
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**Much Higher Than Before**

The heat of the sun pouring in behind her eyelids woke her. Malon's eyes fluttered open and she found her face resting on her knees. She had curled against the wall, seated on the floor and knees to her chest. Considering the night's events, she hadn't expected to fall asleep at all. But tending a ranch and executing secret midnight escapades would exhaust one, and in the end exhaustion had won out even her fear.

Malon stood, her hair clumped and brittle, her clothing mud-caked and ruined. Standing to stretch away the uncomfortable position from her muscles, she realized the sun had woken her. She was late to rise. Malon walked over to the window curiously. Ingo was up and tending to the animals on his own, though grumbling as he did so. He complained, but Malon knew he had been too kind to wake her. But Goddesses forbid she should become idle like her father!

_A shadow of worry, Malon?_ An unfamiliar whisper resonated in her mind. Malon paled. She had almost forgotten the cause of her slovenly appearance! The shadow Link…

She turned slowly, as if at any moment the imposter would materialize and leap upon her. But what could such evil want with a lowly farm girl? Or perhaps it was the fact that she was nothing but a lowly farm girl that interested it. If it took the farm girl and silently ripped open her throat behind an alley, who would care? Ingo and Talon, but that was all. It would make no difference in the world, he would not be persecuted.

The doorknob hung quietly on the door, beckoning to Malon. Worn copper sphere, it was nothing out of the ordinary. Then why was Malon suddenly so anxious to lay a finger upon it? She had turned that knob countless times in her life, as had all the other household inhabitants. Then why did she now approach it, hand outstretched, with such trepidation? Why were each of her steps so calculated, so excruciatingly slow? Why did she force herself to stay light, to make as little noise as possible, to disturb no lingering spirit lurking in concealment between the walls?

Her fingertips met the cold metal. Nothing.

Malon exhaled, feeling rather silly, and gripped the knob promptly. She gave it a turn and opened the door as nonchalantly as she could manage. Peaking down from the top of the stairs she could see the haystack where she had left the imposter, pooling in his own dark and vaporous evils. Now all that scratched in the hay were scattered Cuccos her father must've forgotten to take back to the pens. Wherever the pseudo-Link had gone, he was not here now. Nor had he left any sign of ever having been. The floor was clear of mud and the hay held no impression.

Were it not for her grubby self, Malon would have thought last night's events all but a Link-withdrawal induced nightmare.

But no, something had definitely been there last night. It was not in Malon's custom to practice rolling in the muck fields during a storm.

The crack of the opened front door caught Malon dazed and made her jump with a slight squeal. "Ah, Ms Malon!" Ingo said, pitchfork balanced on one shoulder. "You're up. I was concerned. You're not ill," he paused, taking in the sight of her, "are… you?" he finished uncertainly.

Malon smiled, flipping a thickly muddied strand of hair out of her face. "No, forgive me." She gave a forced titter and shrugged. Remembering an event in which the horses had once gotten out of the barn; Malon patched together a lie, an excuse. "Last night I forgot to properly secure the barn. A few of the horses got out and I had to chase them through the fields. It was raining and it took hours to round them up. I suppose I was just so tired… I slept in." She faked an apologetic smile and sighed in self-disappointment.

Ingo stared for a moment but then nodded, understanding. "You should be more careful Malon. You could catch a chill." Malon thanked the man for his concern and excused herself to wash up. Whatever had happened the night before, it was over now. She couldn't forsake her duties out of peculiarity.

Hanging a change of clean clothes over her arm, she retreated to the washroom. Inside, a large wooden tub stood over a stone-rimmed hearth. Malon opened the bottom cupboard and withdrew a few logs of firewood, placing them in the hearth. Then, taking the handle of the water pump, she pushed and pulled until the water began to flow freely. Once the tub was filled, Malon sealed the pump, and lit the firewood below.

Pulling up a chair, Malon sat and waited for the water to warm. She could feel the dried mud cracking against her skin whenever she moved. "Eww…" She didn't remember the last time she'd felt so dirty. _I just can't wait to dunk my head in the water, _Malon thought.

_You can wash away your muddied skirts, but not the sin that haunts and hurts._ Malon jumped in her seat, surprised by the voice in her head that felt foreign. These were not her thoughts. Besides, she wasn't so skilled with rhyming.

_I'm imagining things, _she told herself, _It's probably just stress. _Yes, Malon convinced herself that it couldn't possibly be real. After all, even if she had seen what she thought she saw, why would such a dark creature go through the trouble of confusing her like this? If it wanted her dead, now was a perfect opportunity. She was alone and unarmed!

Malon shuddered at her own thoughts. "Okay, relax. You're just frightening yourself." She said, standing and walking over to the tub. She dipped two fingers in the water, testing it. Warm, bordering on hot. Perfect.

Malon turned and began to strip away her soiled garments; peeling them off her skin and feeling them crinkle from the caked-on mud. Finished, she tossed them aside and looked down at herself. Even under the clothes she was so _dirty_!

"What a mess…" Instinctively, Malon crossed her arms over her breasts in protection. Even though she was alone in the room, she felt so exposed, so vulnerable. Seeking cover, Malon moved to the tub and climbed inside.

The caress of the warm water was a welcome sensation. Immediately the water around her began to stain brown. Encouraged, Malon scrubbed at her arms. The dirt reverted to mud, which slid easily from her lithe form and dissolved into the water. Swirls of russet danced before her eyes, gliding across the water's surface, stretching and contracting, thickening and thinning, pooling and dissolving. It was strange how something so bothersome in one moment could seem so lovely in the next.

The tips of her auburn hair, long and loose, floated among the swirls of muck, blending among them. Mesmerizing…

Malon blinked, her eyes refocusing. She didn't have time to daydream. There was a farm to tend to. She might as well do her hair next, she figured. It would probably prove the most troublesome. Taking a deep breath and snapping her eyes shut, Malon submerged herself into the water, little bubbles emerging where she had sunk.

Beneath the water, Malon floated; delighting in the warmth and slight pressure of being submerged. She saw only darkness, her eyes still shut tight, so she imagined herself somewhere other than simply in her bath. Perhaps she was in the ocean! Link had mentioned the ocean before. So vast and seemingly endless. Malon often dreamed that she was there, with him.

Then she changed her fantasy, envisioning herself instead high above the clouds. The weightlessness of flight, _that's_ what she was feeling. High up as she was, she could see all of Hyrule. The green fields stretched out before her, appearing so much smaller from where she viewed them. In the distance she could make out the castle, white and filled with golden light, shining like a beacon of righteousness in all its glory. And there he stood. Forever guarding this symbol of goodness, protecting the citizens that looked to it for justice and guidance, Link stood proudly, sword in hand. Malon flew over him, watching as he turned his head up to see her, and smiled. A true, genuine smile; for her and only for her.

She was beginning to feel a bit light-headed. She'd have to come up for air soon. But not quite yet. Just a little longer. She let herself fly up towards the heavens, higher and higher, much higher than she ever had before, the cool wind whipping against her face and the warmth of the sun contrasting against it. Such a pure, clear blue was the sky. Stained only by the fluffy tufts of white clouds.

Darkness. Only for a brief second, but her thoughts were interrupted, tainted, by complete darkness. And in that moment, two blazing eyes of red opened in the darkness, staring at her; marking her.

Malon's eyes snapped open under the water; she gasped mistakenly, inhaling muddied water. The dirt in the water stung at her exposed eyes. Malon pushed herself upwards, trying to surface, but something held her down. She felt a pair of rough hands against her shoulders, pushing her down into the murky depths refusing to allow her exit.

Malon struggled in a panic. Her lungs burned, feeling as if they would cave in on themselves, aching for fresh air! She tried to shut her eyes, but whenever she did those red orbs stared back at her. Terrified, Malon kicked and writhed under her attacker's grip. But the attacker would not relent.

A fuzziness began to form around Malon's mind, her thoughts fading. Her head become heavy, as if she was very tired. The edges of her vision began to turn black, the blackness working its way inward. Malon's struggle slowed, until finally she could no longer even remember why she was struggling anymore, and stopped.

She floated, face down, feeling herself drift around slightly from the ripples she had caused in her struggle. She could feel herself slipping away…

The rough hands that gripped her shoulders suddenly released, sliding down her shoulders, her arms, to her waist. There, they clutched her hips with brutal force, the pain briefly bringing Malon to reality, and hoisted her upwards out of the water.

Malon emerged, gasping for breath and coughing desperately. She grasped the edge of the tub, her head leaning over the side, spewing up the fluid in her lungs. Finally, throat raw and pained, Malon sat gasping. Her lungs stung powerfully, making each breath painful.

Her breathing still labored, but slightly stabilized, Malon whirled around, searching for her attacker. There was no one. She was alone.

She looked to the door. Locked, as she had left it. There was no entrance, save a window at the top of the room. But it was too high up to reach and too small to fit through; only about the size of Malon's hands laid out flat beside each other.

Her heart still racing, Malon stood and clambered out of the tub. There was no more visible dirt; she was clean enough for now. She hurried over to the counter, picked up her clean clothes, and tugged them on.

Had she imagined all _that_ too?

Without giving anything a second thought, Malon hurried to the door, her trembling hands causing her to fumble with the latch. With some effort, she managed to open the door, and began to depart.

She stopped, remembering her mother's brooch. She had left her dirtied clothes inside. That was forgivable; she could go back for them later. But she couldn't leave her mother's brooch, she always wore it. It was all she had left of her mother.

Reluctantly turning around, Malon ran back in and made a mad dash for the counter. She dug through the muddy pile of clothes furiously, found the brooch, and tore it from the scarf where it was pinned. Not even bothering to rinse it, Malon ran right back outside, into the daylight, and shut the door behind her.

For a brief moment, Malon thought she heard a soft chuckle come from within the room, until its volume increased and she realized it was only the wind.

The next couple days were… _unusual_ to say the least. While Malon did not again encounter anything like she had in the washroom, there were still small instances which continued to plague her. Heavy milk bottles would tip over without reason, narrowly missing her head; the horses would panic at night, without reason; shadows in the corner of Malon's eye always seemed to be moving; and cryptic whispers could be heard on the wind.

The strangest part of all, though, was that these odd happenings would only happen to Malon or on Malon's watch. And though deep down she suspected it had something to do with that mysterious Link-like stranger, she refused to admit she had ever even met him. Or it. Whatever it was. She didn't want to admit it. She was afraid because she knew that admitting that such a thing had really happened, meant that she was responsible for inviting evil into her home.

The horses, the ranch, Mr. Ingo, her father; if the Link imposter existed then they were all in danger. And it was all her fault. She couldn't tell Mr. Ingo, or her father. They might think her crazy, or worse! They might believe her. Then they'd know this was all her doing. She may have been frightened, but she was also ashamed.

So that night, as Malon sat up in bed, unable to find sleep, she clung to her mother's brooch and stared out at the moon through her window. If this evil spirit was real, then she had brought it in. It was tormenting her, teasing her. But why?

Because she had bid it welcome. Unwittingly and unwillingly, but nonetheless, she had.

Through her window she could see the horse track. The moon cast its pale light, through the trees and over the buildings. From where Malon stood, the slight illumination gave the impression of dancing shadows across the track.

Attaching the brooch to her nightgown, Malon flung off her covers and stood off her bed. Thankfully it was not raining, nor was it a windy night, but it was still cold. Malon slipped into her plain cotton robe and laced up her boots. She would investigate. If somehow she really had allowed passage into her home for evil spirits, and if those dancing shadows below were not just eyesight tricks of the night, then she was responsible.

And if it wasn't real, if she was just being paranoid, then she would find nothing and know all was well.

As silently as she could manage; Malon made her way down the stairs, stepped across the sparse straws of hay on the floor, and went out the door.

The cold hit her like a slap in the face. Malon clutched onto her robe, holding it more tightly closed, and continued. The grass crunched softly beneath her feet, seeming so much louder in such quiet. The smell of dew was strong in the air, fresh and familiar. The chirping of crickets was also familiar, comforting.

It was dark. Everything was but silhouettes and outlines. Still, Malon knew this place well. She had been here all her life, after all. It was easy for her to maneuver her way through, even in such meager light.

Malon made her way to the horse track, turning a corner to find it. She froze at the sight. Inside the ring of the horse track was a grass field, separated from the track by a fence. Bathed in the moonlight, the dew on each blade of grass reflecting the pale white, gave the impression that the field was glowing. It seemed ethereal, beautiful.

Malon stepped forward with care. Such a sight seemed heavenly, not devilish. She came to the center of the field, looking around her in awe and inspiration. She had stood in this field at night so many times in her life. Why did it seem so different now?

It was the crickets that came to her attention first. Not because of their chirping, as they had been doing that all along, but rather because they ceased to do so. It was impossible. Every single cricket simply fell silent, as if they had all been snuffed out at once. The shadows cast onto the field by trees and by the fence, began to ripple.

There was no wind. All was still, unnaturally so even. So then there was no reason for the shadows to be writhing as they were. Malon spun around, ice-cold fear flowing into her veins and griping her heart. She backed away a few steps, arms slightly spread at her sides, her head darting back and forth in alarm. The shadows continued to crawl, around, now advancing towards her. Malon wanted to run, to flee back to the safety of her room, but she was surrounded. She whirled around, desperate for a way out, her robe flying from her body as if blown away by a sudden gust, though there was no wind.

"Stop it!" Malon cried out, the shadows creeping ever nearer. "Stop it!" She shrieked again, her voice nearly unrecognizable. "Why are you doing this…?" She whispered to herself, a shadow skittering across her boot. Malon raised her foot, having nowhere else to step away to. "Just tell me why!" She screamed, crumpling to her knees, eyes shut tight, crossing her arms over her head, and hiding her face as best she could in her own chest.

Silence. Then, the soft sounds of chirping crickets could be heard through the field, as if nothing had ever happened. A gentle breeze blew through Malon's hair. The field was alive again, no longer unnaturally still. Malon took a breath and opened her eyes. Nothing happened. She lifted her head only slightly, expecting something to jump out. Nothing. She lifted her head to see in front of her. All was as it had always been. The night was dark, cold. The grass beneath her was damp and cool. The moon was full in the sky and the shadows stayed where they should.

Malon stood slowly. Had she imagined it all again? Maybe she really was going mad.

A sudden chill wracked her body. Malon embraced herself for warmth. Her hands met the skin of her arms. Malon stopped, confused. Where had her robe gone?

"You really should be more careful, girl." said a deep, even, and undeniably masculine voice behind her. Malon turned around to face it. In the shadow of a tree was her robe, floating in mid-air, as if suspended by an invisible hand. "You could catch a chill." The voice continued, two specks of red glinting in the dark.

* * *

Oh no, a cliffhanger. I'm evil! Bad authoress, bad! 

Well to make it up to you, here's some review replies!

**Spiritual Stone: **Thank you so much! I'm glad you liked it. I love your penname by the way! And yes, she dragged the fake Link all the way. Kinda freaky, huh? Thinking you're saving a friend and then finding out you were dragging an evil carbon-copy instead? _I'd_ be traumatized...

**oldcross: **You're right! See? Continued! Thanks for your review and for helping to convince me to continue! Now i'm really glad I did...

**Some Guy: **Well now you know what happens next! I know, a cliffhanger. Grr. But at least now Malon knows she's not crazy! Or... thinks she's more crazy. Either way, thanks for helping convince me to continue. Now I'm really glad I did.

**Topaze Fire: **Oh wow. You wrote such a nice and long review for me! Thanks! For some reason, when I read "heads shall roll" I got a mental image of the CD-I Link on a black horse decapitating people, like the headless horseman. Disturbing... I'm glad you liked the beckstory. I was worried people might think it was too non-canon since I took a few creative liberties with it. I don't plan on making this story too long, though I think I could expand it to at least nine chapters. Definitely no more than 20. And yes, there will be Link. We need him to make our angry Shadow angsty, don't we?  
**  
Zequistis Free Spirit: **Ah phew... I was afraid it was too long and people wouldn't want to read it all the way through. Haha, better than the CD-I games. I really wonder though, is it even possible for a Zelda fan to make anything worse than the CD-I games? Even if they tried? Maybe the whole CD-I thing was a conspiracy between Nintendo and Philippes to make people buy the OTHER Zelda games. You know, "Ahh! My eyes! This is so terrible, I think I need to go buy some other Zelda games to cleanse myself!"


	3. The Vision of You Haunting Me

Another chapter? Wow, I'm just breezing through this story. These daily, updates will probably have to turn into weekly ones soon. (Sorry, real life calls. I know, suckage.) So enjoy the everyday-updating-streak while it lasts! I know I do!

So many nice reviews too! Aw, you're all too kind! (Blush)

Not really happy with this chapter. It seems a bit all over the place. But then again, isn't that what shadows do?

* * *

**The Vision of You Haunting Me**

The plain cotton robe, off-white in hue, contrasted sharply with the shadows in which it floated, standing out amongst them. Malon squeezed herself tighter, having never seen anything like this in her life.

No, Malon's life had been such a simple one. Boring even. The only time Malon ever remembered an adventure, outside of her fantasies, had been when Ingo had gone mad. But she hadn't been in any immediate danger at the time, and Link had come to rescue her when she had been.

Now she could very well be in danger, and what was worse; she was alone. She tightened her grip on her own arms again, her skin too numb from the cold to feel the discomfort.

The glinting red orbs seemed to take note of this.

"I believe this is yours." The voice said casually, coming closer. The robe came forward, out of the shadows, revealing a swarthy grey hand which held the robe up.

Malon could only stare, rooted to the ground, unable to make a move. She could see what was happening, but her mind couldn't process it. Her thoughts were completely blank.

With a flick of the wrist, the disembodied hand tossed the robe to Malon's feet. Her eyes followed the movement, registering it but not making sense of it. She stared at the cloth in utter confusion, blinking until finally she managed to make it out. _My robe is on the grass…_

She shivered suddenly, and bent down to retrieve the robe, slowly. It was slightly damp from the grass, but otherwise it seemed unchanged. Out of custom, Malon slipped into the robe, not thinking.

"It does not suit you." The voice chuckled, as if it had just said something incredibly amusing. "But then again, I've never been much of a fashionista."

Malon stilled, remembering the voice. Her mind was beginning to cope with the initial shock, and now she was left horrified.

"Why… why are you here?" She managed to choke out through her fear. Her voice was frighteningly flimsy. What was wrong with her? She was a singer for Goddesses sake!

"Come now, girl! Malon, was it?" The voice asked, feigning ignorance. "Why am I here? Why, you invited me!" The hand moved in a sweeping motion, another hand emerging from the shadows to mirror its gesture. "And let me say, you are a poor host!"

Malon held her robe shut tight, not only for protection from the cold. "Who—" her voice cracked, against her will. Malon licked her lips and swallowed, realizing as she did so that her throat was parched, and continued. "Who—"

"Am I?" The voice interrupted. Then, it laughed; a terrible, grating sound that sought out the spine and ran up it. "You aren't very quick, are you?"

The voice hushed. Malon clung to herself, fearing whatever it was doing now, and watched as the figure walked out of the shadows. Slowly, as if materializing from the darkness itself, the source of the voice appeared before her.

"I am your precious Hero." And true to his word, there stood the dark, silver-haired, red-eyed, black garbed shadow of Link.

Malon gasped, a hand shooting up to her throat. But despite her renewed shock, her mind was racing now. "W-what do you mean you're the hero?" She mentally kicked herself for the stutter. There was no time to show fear. _If a dark spirit knows it holds power over you, it will use it!_ She had to be strong, had to drive him away!

"I meant what I said." he replied, arms crossed defiantly. "I am the Hero you so worship; the Hero all of Hyrule so reveres," he paused, raising a dark hand and inspecting it with mild interest, "or at least… a part of him." His raised hand clenched into a fist, as if a sudden fury had taken him.

Malon bit her lip at his sudden display of rage. The last thing she needed was to anger an evil spirit, whatever its form may be. "I don't understand." She admitted, adverting her eyes. "Please, just leave me alone!"

"Hmm," The Shadow said to himself, as if considering her request, "mm… no." He said with finality, while remaining unbelievably nonchalant.

"But why—?" Malon cried, looking up to face him.

"Why not?" The Shadow retorted immediately, taking a step towards her menacingly.

Malon shrank, but refused to step back. "I thought you said you were the Hero. Why would the Hero torment his people?"

The Shadow rolled his eyes and sighed in exasperation, as if trying to explain something simple to a particularly dull-witted child. "Do you really think the Hero incapable of such things?" He crossed his arms again, moving away from Malon's front, only to begin circling her. "The Hero is only human, after all. Do you really think he is above such things as cruelty?"

Anger flared up in Malon's chest. How dare he speak this way of Link? "The Hero embodies goodness!" Malon retorted, incensed.

"Oh, have I hit a nerve?" The Shadow replied, seeming slightly amused. "Listen, I shall try to keep it simple for you." He stood before her, arms spread out, as if he was but an anatomical diagram of himself for study. "I was born of the Hero's Shadow. I embody everything that is his evil." He lowered his arms, advancing upon Malon with every following sentence. "Every jealous thought, that's me. Every moment of anger, that's me. Every interlude of hatred, or sorrow, or sloth, or selfishness, or pride, or greed, or even…"

He trailed off, now mere centimeters from Malon. His vision locked with Malon's lips, which trembled from combined cold and fright. The Shadow smirked and extended a hand, tracing her tremulous bottom lip with his fingertips, while his own lips brushed against her ear as he whispered, "…_lust_."

Malon's breath caught in her throat, her eyes widening in terror. "No!" She screamed, so suddenly that she ever surprised herself. The Shadow leaned away from her calmly, cocking an eyebrow curiously. "He would never, he is a good man!"

"I don't contest that." The Shadow replied, smirking, awfully entertained by her sudden outburst. "But he is only a man, and thus he has desires, which grant me life."

"No." Malon shook her head, stepping back, discarding her plan to stand her ground. "Don't you dare!" She pointed at the Shadow, all passion, refusing to let him play with her head. "You may try to drown me when I am inattentive, but I shall not stand here and listen to you slander him!"

The Shadow grinned, a terrible, sadistic grin, casting his arms in front of him in a demeaning shrug. "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about. Try to drown you? That would be far too uncreative for me, don't you think?"

"You're not fooling me!" Malon insisted, stomping her foot for emphasis. "No one else is capable!" The Shadow opened his mouth to speak, but this time Malon cut _him_ off. "Don't try to deny it! I won't believe a word you say!"

"Clever girl." The Shadow nodded appreciatively. "When faced with a forked tongue, it is always better to simply close one's ears." The Shadow scowled, sobering suddenly. "But never one's eyes."

Without warning he lunged at her, flying straight for her face. Malon had no time to think, only react. She closed her eyes and ducked to avoid the oncoming collision.

Nothing. Again, nothing. Perhaps he was gone then. She would open her eyes and find nothing but the empty field. Then she would run straight for her room and lock the door, without even a glance behind her!

Hopefully, Malon opened her eyes; only two find those two scarlet irises staring back at her, only a breath away.

She drew a breath to scream, only to find herself being hoisted up to her feet, the Shadow once again standing before her, one hand to his chin, the other holding his elbow. Somehow he had forced her to stand, but he had not touched her.

"What a pity." He said carelessly, shaking his head.

"Link will destroy you..." Malon breathed, steeling her strength. "He's done it once, he can do it again!" she shouted.

The Shadow did not even bat an eyelash. "Link? So he's _Link_ now? Not just _Hero_?" He looked her up and down, as one might inspect a ranch animal before purchasing it. "I see…" He frowned, as if greatly disappointed. "You're enamored with him."

"And what would you know about it?" Malon retorted, tears springing to her eyes. "More importantly, what difference does it make to you?"

"None whatsoever." The Shadow said plainly. "It just makes you so much more _irritating_." He clicked his tongue and turned away from her, pondering to himself.

His back to her, Malon took the opportunity to survey her situation. Her first instinct was to run, but such was not an option. He had already demonstrated his inhuman speed, and turning her back to him could prove fatal.

In the moonlight, the grass at Malon's feet gleamed. Malon squinted her eyes, trying to make it out. Ingo had left his rake out on the field. That was unlike him. Ingo was extremely strict when it came to his work. He would never forget to put away a tool!

_But he did, and bless the Goddesses for it! _Careful to avoid any unnecessary movements, Malon shifted her boot onto the wide end of the rake, which stood erect, and gripped the handle. Before she could talk herself out of it, Malon charged forward, the rake's sharp tips pointed for his mid-region.

"Heh." The Shadow whirled around, catching the rake behind its metal tips and holding it just barely before his tunic. "Well, I'll give you this; you're either incredibly brave, or irreconcilably stupid."

Malon held strong, straining to push the rake forward just the few inches it needed to impale him. But the Shadow only smirked.

"Go on then, Malon. Do it. Run me through. Then you'd be the hero for once, wouldn't you?" Malon tried to ignore him, tried to focus on the rake; her weapon. "Do you think, if you succeeded where Link failed; in killing me, that he'd notice you?" Malon's hands were shaking. She couldn't do this… but she had to. "Do you think…" the Shadow dropped his smirk, plastering a false look of sympathy on his stolen face, "…he'd love you?"

Malon gave a cry, her strength giving out, and relented her attack. Her grip remained on the rake handle, but so loose that if the Shadow ceased to hold it up, she would drop it.

"Come on! What happened?" the Shadow said in mock disappointment.

"Why are you doing this to me…?" Malon whispered, her voice hoarse, as tears of frustration sprinkled down her cheeks.

"Oh, no." the Shadow said, barely able to contain his mirth. "Have I made you cry? Now that is downright cruel! Especially being your guest!" He looked down at her bowed head, catching her eyes. "I'll tell you what. Here, look at me." Malon obeyed, tired of resisting. "To make it up to you, I'll help you out."

She didn't believe him. He was a creature of darkness, of evil. And yet she could not find the strength to refuse his false charity. "How?"

"By helping you finish what you _started_." He pulled the rake forward suddenly, cutting into his own flesh with a revolting squelch.

Malon jumped back, horrified, as black blood spurt forth onto her hands. She screamed, desperately trying to wipe the supposed blood away, only to find it evaporating. She looked up to face the Shadow, who dropped the rake without interest, black smoke billowing from where he had impaled himself.

The Shadow grimaced slightly, but in mere moments the smoke had wrapped around the wound, solidifying, and he was healed. Impossibly, he stood as if nothing had ever happened, even his tunic mended!

"Do you understand now?" He barked, advancing towards her threateningly. Malon backed away, trying to escape him. "I do not cry. I do not _bleed_." Malon's back met the fence. There was nowhere else to run to! The Shadow leaned forward, his hot eyes burning with fury and slicing into her very soul. "You can not kill me."

Tears poured silently down her cheeks, unabated. The Shadow did not smirk, did not chuckle, he was through mocking her. Now he was furious.

"And you, little Malon, are to tell no one of my existence. Not even… no… especially not your precious _Fairy Boy_!" He spat Link's nickname with utter disgust. Somewhere in the back of Malon's mind, through the fear that gripped all conscious thought, Malon wondered why—even as close as he was to her—his body gave off no heat. "You will be my loyal little pet. If I ask you to perform a task, you shall do so without question. If I order you to leave me to my own devices, you shall forget me until I come find you again. You shall do all this in secret, and with unwavering loyalty!" His top lip curled, his wrath becoming too much even for him. "And should you even consider betraying me…" he slid his index finger down the gentle slope of her nose, tapping the end of it, "I will kill you." And with that he removed himself from her, turning and walking away to the shadows from whence he came.

Malon sniffled, and released a shuddering breath. His presence removed, she regained some of her senses and called back to him. "You can threaten me!" She called to him. The Shadow stopped in his tracks. "You can force me to do whatever you like! But you can't make me be loyal. In my heart I will always hate you, as strongly as I love _him_! And you can't change that!"

The Shadow turned slowly, unhurriedly, and faced her. He lifted his hand to the side of his face and spoke, "I can make anything disappear. I can make anything reappear." Then he snapped his fingers, with all the disdain of a spoiled child, and dissolved into black smoke before her eyes.

Malon stood for several moments, her legs shaking uncontrollably. Then they gave way beneath her and she fell to the floor, the adrenaline draining and the stress having finally been too much for her lithe form, causing her to faint.

* * *

**Sable Gear: **A fellow fanatical female gamer! (Ooh, alliteration!) All hope is not lost for the gaming world! More on topic, I'm glad you liked Shadow Link! Although he's a great deal creepier in this chapter, isn't he? He's a strange fellow that one... I mean, talk about mood swings. But anyway, thank you so much for your review! I hope you continue to like what I do with Shadow, I have so many plans for the guy. SO MANY!

**The Legend of Soul Emblem: **Hiya Some Guy! Ooh, nice penname! Haha, barely registered after reading fics for a while? I was like that too. I was just to lazy to get an account XD. Shadow Link is naughty! Trying to kill her when she's in the bathtub! For shame! Thanks for the add to your favorites! The alert list is for when you want to recieve an email every time one of your alerted stories and/or authors updates. Hope that helps!

**Zequistis Free Spirit: **You like cliffhangers, eh? (Laughs evilly) This chapter isn't as long as the previous ones, but a lot happened. Well... not really. In fact, very little happened. But at least Malon and Shadow met face to face! Erm, face to... shadow face. Thanks so much for your review, and your compliments! I'll try my best to keep up the descritions, without drawing them out. It's hard when I describe Shadow Link. When it comes to him I could go on and on and on and on and on...

**Topaze Fire: **0.0 What a long review! Thank you so much! And very helpful too! Here, you get Shadow Link cookies! (Shadow: Hey! I do not endorse those!) Yes, he is indeed that little voice in Malon's head. He's a troublemaking little brat, isn't he? And yes! (Whispers) That sentence was foreshadowing. You caught that, huh? And here I was trying to be subtle. Good observation! Your English teacher must be working you into the ground...er...books. Glad the descriptions weren't too drawn out! Like I said to a previous reviewer, it can be very difficult when describing Shadow Link. When it comes to him I could just ramble on and on and on and on and on and... No angst? Oh, there will be pleanty of angst! Shadow Link's middle name is angst! (Shadow: I don't even have a first name!) Yep, Shadow A. Link. Now i want to make a business card like that.

**Jessumellow: **Thanks for the compliments! Yeah, part of the reason I started writing this is because there are so few good Dark Link fics out there, which is really a shame! Dark/Shadow Link is one of my favorite characters! As for my writing... I have written a few _Phantom _fanfics, but thats about it. As for novels, I've started one before, but I can never finish it. I tend to hate my writing after a while, though I'm trying to improve upon it. Well, enough babbling! Thank you for your review and I hope you like how I plan to end it!

**Spiritual Stone: **My story is a drug? (Weaves fingers) Excellent... Erm, I mean, thank you! I'm so glad you enjoyed it! You were my first reviewer for this story! And now it looks like you've started a trend. I shrieked when I read your review, I don't know why, it made me want to scream out of excitement... It is a good week! I have a feeling your new story has a new review or two... But it's just a hunch. (Looks away innocently)

**adrian-air-fire: **Thank you! Always glad to hear someone likes my writing enough to keep reading it!


	4. Your Spirit Chills Me To The Core

This chapter was extremely hard to write for some reason. I just felt so terrible for Malon, and yet I couldn't come up with enough ways to torment her. Poor, poor characters...

Ah well. If you don't like this chapter, you'll probably like the next one. But I've said too much! (Seals lips)

* * *

**Your Spirit Chills Me to the Core**

It was the sound of muffled voices that woke her. They weren't close by, probably in the next room or downstairs even. Malon rolled over in her bed, pulling her blankets up higher, reveling in the warmth. She inhaled deeply and began to drift back to sleep.

_Rise and shine, little Malon. _Malon's eyes snapped open. Sunlight poured in through the window, impeding her vision. With a wide yawn, Malon sat up, a hand over her eyes to block the excess light, and looked around in a sleepy gaze. Sunlight? She had overslept?

Without warning, images began assaulting Malon's mind; memories of the previous night, accompanied by that terrible, derisive laugh. Malon sprung out of bed, searching frantically for any sign of the Shadow.

Outside, a small bird warbled a pretty little tune. Malon brushed a hand through her mess of hair, pushing it out of her face, and opened her window. It was morning, and a beautiful morning at that. Not a single cloud in the bright blue sky. The sun shone strong and warm. The fresh morning dew on the grass below left a clean scent in the air. A few small birds had perched themselves to sing their praises to the Goddesses for such a blessed day.

And the Shadow was nowhere to be found.

"Was it all… just a dream?" Malon wondered aloud. It had to be. The last she remembered was standing in that field. She had never gone to bed. So then waking up in her room, tucked in her warm blankets, obviously was proof! All but a dream… a nightmare.

It was over. There were no evil spirits. She was safe. The farm was safe. Her father and Ingo were safe. "Oh, father!" Malon smiled, remembering the muffled voices she had heard earlier. They were probably arguing again, but trying to keep quiet so as not to wake her.

In an exceptionally cheery mood, in spite of how she had overslept, Malon slipped into her plain cotton robe. Briefly, her eyes caught sight of a flash of green. Malon stopped, finding a stain on the robe's shoulder.

"That's odd. A grass stain? I rarely wear you outside, how'd you get so dirty?" But Malon paid it little mind and simply wiped at the stain, until it was clear it would not come clean, and shrugged it off. Her jovial mood unhindered, she skipped to her bedroom door and opened it a crack.

Sure enough, she could see Ingo and her father at the table, having a hushed argument. Curious, even more so of the fact that her father was up so early, Malon listened in.

"I'm telling you, Talon. She's been behaving very strangely." Ingo said, insistently.

"It's probably just a womanly matter." Talon said with a wide yawn. "I'm going back to bed."

"Bed?" Ingo leaned back in his chair, accusingly.

"Did I say bed?" Talon said with a nervous laugh. "I meant I was going back to work…"

"Regardless of what you said, I'm serious here!" Ingo leaned forward, spreading his hands out on the table and lowering his voice to the quietest whisper he could manage. Malon had to strain to hear. "I was out at dawn, tending the field, when I found Ms Malon; asleep, wearing only her nightgown."

"Well when people sleep, they're usually in their nightgowns." Talon said loudly, good-naturedly.

"Hush up!" Ingo snapped, pulling Talon down lower to the table, so he could hear him better. "You didn't let me finish. I found her asleep, wearing only her nightgown, _in_ the field."

Malon gasped, her heart skipping a beat in her chest. It hadn't been a dream. Everything that she remembered, that awful nightmare, was all _real_. Malon felt suddenly light-headed and had to grab on to the door to steady herself.

Talon sat straighter, looking quite baffled. "The field in the middle of the horse track?" Ingo nodded. "Now why would she do that?"

"I don't know." Ingo said, seeming relived to finally have gotten through to the big lummox. "I tried to rouse her, but she would not wake! It was freezing cold out there too. Her robe was strewn out nearby, but for some reason she wasn't wearing it."

She didn't have her robe? But Malon distinctly remembered putting it back on. Had the Shadow removed it and then left it lying in the field? But why? What did he gain by leaving her more exposed to the elements that she already had been?

"Now that's just silly." Talon replied, still too loudly. "I think if she'd gone through the trouble to bring her robe, she'd at least have the sense to wear it."

"That's my point!" Ingo sighed, hiding his face in his hands. "It doesn't _make_ any sense!" He looked up at Talon, who seemed to be trying to form a thought. "It gets worse."

Malon's grip tightened in anxiety; one hand on the door, the other on the knob. Worse? Worse _how_?

"My rake," Ingo continued, "was lying out on the field next to her." Talon gave him a blank look. "Listen, Talon. If you ever did _anything_ for your own ranch, you'd know I never—_ever_—leave any of my tools out. Malon must have unlocked my tool shed and, Goddesses know why, fetched the rake herself before wandering out to the middle of the field in the bleak hours of the night."

Talon stared an Ingo credulously. He paused for a moment, seeming to strain very hard to absorb all this information and formulate a reply, before responding. "I do _too_ do something around my ranch! I make milk deliveries!"

"Talon, you idiot! That isn't the point!" Ingo stood, surrendering, and stormed out of the house.

"Geez. Touchy!" Talon stood lazily, wandering off to the haystack in the corner, and promptly fell asleep.

Malon could only stare vacantly at the spot where Ingo and Talon had been sitting mere moments ago. So then, Ingo hadn't forgotten the rake? And her father certainly hadn't touched it; Malon doubted the man could even unlock the tool shed. Then that left only one possible culprit.

Somehow the Shadow had broken into the tool shed and stolen Ingo's rake. But why?

Malon gasped at a sudden revelation. Last night, the Shadow had turned his back to her. Only then had Malon noticed the rake. In defense she had tried to stab him, but when she lacked the strength to actually do so he had been disappointed. It hadn't made any sense to her then; he had even gone to such lengths as impaling _himself_ when Malon failed to do so.

Malon suddenly understood. He had set it all up. The Shadow had left the rake in a convenient location, purposely made himself appear vulnerable by turning his back to her, and then taunted her, egged her on. He had _wanted_ Malon to skewer him.

He had wanted to scare her, to demonstrate his invincibility. And he had succeeded.

She was afraid. Malon had never known fear such as this. It was an unreal, untouchable fear, but it had a face and a voice. It was all the evil from superstitions and bedtime stories, the darkness and the unknown; manifested in a tangible, imaginable form.

Malon realized she was contradicting herself, but she couldn't do anything about it. It wasn't a matter of rational thought; it was a matter of emotion, and such matters do not care for reason or consistency. All Malon knew for certain was that she was afraid unlike she had even been before, and she couldn't tell anyone…

About an hour later, Malon was dressed and ready for the day. She hadn't had time to bathe and, considering what happened last time, she really didn't mind putting it off.

She made her way downstairs, having finally convinced herself that the Shadow was _not_ going to burst from concealment to eat her face off, and, blowing a kiss to her sleeping father, went outside.

The warming sun was a comfort to the troubled farm girl. It really was a beautiful day. With all that had happened, she had forgotten. Malon took a deep breath of the morning air to calm herself and entered the barn.

Ingo was there, tending to the cows. He stood straight when he saw her enter and asked if she was feeling alright. Malon smiled half-heartedly, assuring him that she was alright, and picked up an empty bucket from the corner.

"Are you sure?" Ingo asked again as he placed a recently filled bottle of fresh Lon-Lon milk on a crate shelf and strapped it in.

"Yes." Malon said, quickly thinking up an excuse. "I seem to have been sleep-walking lately." She forced a laugh, but it came out incredibly fake. "Thank you for watching out for me."

"Of course, Ms Malon! Think nothing of it." Ingo replied. "Just as long as you don't make a habit of oversleeping. I'd hate to see you take after your _father_." Ingo rolled his eyes at the mention of Talon. "Useless."

"His heart's in the right place," Malon said sweetly, "even if his work ethic isn't."

Ingo nodded in assent. "Well then, if you're feeling better, would you pack up the milk delivery for me while I take the cows out to graze?"

"Mhm." Malon answered, a little too eagerly. Ingo regarded her oddly, but then opened the barn door and let the cows out, following behind them.

Malon exhaled, dropping the act. Hopefully Ingo wasn't too suspicious, as that could be problematic. On the other hand, the Shadow had yet to disturb her today. It was wishful thinking, but perhaps he had forgotten about her? Malon shook her head, deciding it was better not to think about it.

She took the milk bottles Ingo had just filled and began to place them in their designated crate. It was a special, shelved crate, with leather straps attached to keep the bottles from tipping over or breaking in a collision. The crate had only five sides presently, one side uncovered so that Malon could store the bottles. Ingo would come and nail the sixth side in place later. In the meantime, it was Malon's responsibility to make sure the bottles were securely fastened. If not, the entire shipment would be in jeopardy; and that was a risk the poor farm could not afford.

It took all morning to finally strap in every bottle. Malon took extra care to make sure every single one was fastened snugly and securely. There'd be no mishaps with this shipment. Wiping her arm over her brow, Malon stood back and admired a job well done.

Her labors completed, Malon picked up the bucket she had held earlier and went out to fetch the horse's water, as she had intended to.

The water pump was outside, near the horse track. Malon made the trip with ease now, but she knew it'd be much tougher once the large bucket was brimming with water. Enjoying the effortless walk while it lasted, Malon took in the soothing kiss of the sun.

She arrived at the water pump sooner than she would have liked. But work was work, might as well get it over with. She placed the bucket under the spout and began the toil away. Getting water out of the pump took a great deal of strength. Malon had to place all her weight on the handle to push it down, and had to lean back as she pulled up. Once up, once down, one spurt of water. Malon clenched and unclenched her hands to release the tension and soothe the sting. This was not her favorite chore.

By well into the late afternoon, Malon had finally filled the bucket to the brim. Her hands and arms were aching from the effort, but Malon didn't complain. If anything she was relieved. The Shadow had not yet troubled her and Malon began to believe that maybe he really had decided to let her be.

"If he's gone I swear to the Goddesses," Malon grimaced with the effort of lifting the heavy bucket, "that I'll pray everyday and often!" With difficulty, Malon finally managed to haul the bucket back to the barn. The horses were out now, so Malon placed the bucket back in the corner where she could get it later.

"Hmm, a metal bucket. How… _conventional_." said a mocking voice above her. Malon looked up to find the source. The Shadow sat on edge of the barn loft, looking down at her derisively. "Not to mention shortsighted."

Malon bowed her head, playing with her fingers nervously. "What do you want?"

The Shadow leapt from where he was sitting, floating down weightlessly, and landed with grace. Even after he stopped moving, Malon noticed his hat continued to float, the tip dissipating in the air. He smirked at her for a moment, and then moved away as if completely disinterested in her presence.

"What do I want?" he echoed, as if asking himself the very same question. He glided over to the other side of the room, picking up a bucket identical to the one Malon had just hauled in, examining it.

Malon turned to leave, thinking that perhaps he had his own agenda and was not interested in her, but his voice interjected.

"Pay attention!" He snapped, turning to face her. "I'm trying to help you."

"Help me?" Malon fought the urge to scream. If he wanted to help her, he should just leave her be!

"Yes, now shut up and look here." He lifted the bucket, crossing the room, towards where Malon had left the water-filled bucket. "These buckets are identical in outward appearance. And yet you keep them as far away as possible from one another. Why is that?"

Malon opened her mouth but no answer would come. The truth was she didn't know why. Biting her lip, she shrugged.

The Shadow scoffed in annoyance. "You're not even trying!" He dipped a grey hand into the bucket he held and splashed a handful of the contents into Malon's face.

Malon wiped the greasy substance out of her eyes, spitting in disgust at the taste of it in her mouth. "Oil!"

"That's right, oil." the Shadow affirmed, placing the oil-filled bucket next to the water-filled one. "Lamp oil no less. The type of oil one uses to light fires. And still some fool decides to store the oil in a bucket identical to the one where they store the water." He looked back and forth between the buckets, his arms akimbo, shaking his head in disapproval. "Do you see the problem with that?"

"Well, I…" Malon didn't know what to say. The truth was she didn't see the problem at all. In fact, she didn't even understand why he was telling her this in the first place!

The Shadows whirled around to face her, adopting a chiding tone. "Imagine there's an emergency and you are in an urgent need of water. You run in to fetch the appropriate bucket, but it's dark so you can't see what's inside. You're nervous; you're not thinking clearly enough to think of checking the contents. So you grab whichever bucket is nearest you and rush out, only to utilize the contents and discover you chose the wrong bucket. But by then…" he grinned sadistically, approaching Malon and leaning close to speak into her ear, "it's too late."

The barn door slid open loudly. Malon spun around, all traces of the Shadow now gone, and saw Ingo entering. He seemed to be in a foul mood, and frowned when he caught sight of Malon.

"Ms Malon, did you or did you not securely shelf the milk bottles?" He asked as he approached her, seeming greatly bothered.

"Yes, of course I did." Malon replied, confused.

"Well I just tried to load one of the crates into the wagon, and the bottles toppled over! There's milk all over the floor! What a complete waste!" He exhaled sharply in irritation. "We can't afford this, not now."

"I'm sorry Mr. Ingo, but I'm certain I secured every bottle." It didn't make any sense. She had painstakingly taken the time to make absolutely sure that every single last bottle was perfectly strapped in.

Ingo read the truth in her eyes and nodded, pursing his lips in aggravation. "I know, you work hard Ms Malon. I suppose the straps were worn in that crate. Old leather sometimes snaps out of place." He sighed, looking to the ground and shaking his head. "I suppose all I can do about it now is build a new crate, then." He faced Malon once more, hands on his hips. "Are you absolutely sure the rest of the crates are secure?"

Malon peeked behind Ingo, where the rest of the crates stood. They were just as she had left them. "Yes, I'm certain."

"Alright then. Truth be told, I…" Malon didn't hear what truth Ingo was telling. His voice faded from her mind as she noticed the Shadow materialize, floating next to the stacked crates. With a mischievous sneer, he hooked one finger under a leather strap, plucking at it absently.

"No, don't!" Malon yelled. Ingo took a step back in surprise, and turned around to see what she was looking at. But the Shadow had disappeared, just as quickly as it had come.

"Is something the matter?" Ingo asked, turning back to Malon.

"No, it's nothing…" Malon breathed, relief flooding over her. "I thought I saw something, but it was nothing." She looked back to Ingo, trying to seem unfazed. "You were saying?"

Ingo cleared his throat and repeated himself, but once again Malon heard not a word of it, for the Shadow had reappeared beside the milk crates. Deftly, he undid the strap on the top shelf. Malon gripped her skirts, mentally begging him not to do this.

The Shadow grinned at her, continuing his path down the shelves, loosening every strap, careful not to tip a single bottle.

"And I think it may be because of your age…" Malon caught only a fragment of Ingo's speech as her vision flickered to him pleadingly, the back to the crates. "Ms Malon, are you alright?" Ingo asked, genuinely concerned. "You suddenly went very pale."

Malon's attention returned to the thin man, and she stuttered out a response. "N-no. I mean, yes. I'm fine. No, nothing's wrong. I just… do you want me to check if I tightened the straps enough?"

"No, no. It's fine." Ingo replied dismissively. "I trust you; I just wanted to be sure."

"No, I really think I should readjust the straps." Malon said. "I mean, if you're unsure." She added quickly.

"Well, did you secure them correctly the first time around?" Ingo asked, eyebrows raised.

"Yes, definitely." She had worked so hard, why deny it?

"Then I'm sure there's nothing to worry abou—" Ingo was cut off as the crates shook slightly, it seemed of their own volition, causing every last milk bottle to come tumbling down. The glass shattered as it made impact with the dirt floor, which soon found itself lined with milk.

Ingo turned slowly, incredulously, and took in the sight before him with mounting rage. If it wasn't enough that the ranch was already doing poorly financially, and that the month's shipment to Kakariko was ruined, Ingo had a powerful hatred of an avoided or lazily done job. It was the sole reason he couldn't stand Talon.

"Please!" Malon pleaded, seeing how Ingo's fists clenched. Ingo did not even turn to face her, but continued to stare down at the liquid white mess incredulously. "I can explain."

"You can, can you?" inquired the Shadow, only loud enough for Malon to hear, suddenly appearing beside her. "I hope you don't mean to tell him about me. You will find it does not agree with your health."

The Shadow vanished again, evaporating into black smoke, as Ingo turned around. He was red in the face with umbrage, looking like a balloon filled with too much hot air.

"Alright then." Ingo said between clenched teeth. "Explain."

"I…" but before she could say another word, the Shadow materialized above Ingo; holding a rusted knife in his hand. "That is…" With every syllable, the Shadow let the knife slip just a little bit more. Malon followed the tip of the blade, down to where it would land if he let go. The Shadow meant to drop the knife into Ingo's head if she told.

"That is _what_?" The words exploded from Ingo's lungs. Malon wasn't frightened of Ingo, but at the moment she was frightened for him.

"You're right—there's no excuse!" Malon jabbered quickly. "I don't know what I was thinking. Those straps were much too loose! I take full responsibility and I'm very, _very_ sorry." She looked up at the Shadow, who with the flourish of the hand made the rusted knife vanish. Malon closed her eyes, exhaling in relief.

"Ms Malon?" She opened her eyes with a gasp, realizing how strange she must be acting.

"Yes, forgive me." Malon smacked her lips together, trying to ignore the Shadow hovering above them.

"Ms Malon, I think you're unwell." Ingo said, his anger fading, replaced with genuine concern. "Perhaps you should go inside and fix yourself some tea. Take some time off." The Shadow cocked an eyebrow, intrigued by Malon's ability to dissolve anger, and disappeared.

"You're right, Mr. Ingo." Malon replied, following suit. "I'm probably just a bit overworked. A good nap and I should be all right."

"Let's hope so." Ingo said, escorting her out of the barn. "And don't you worry about the mess; I'll take care of it. You just rest."

"As you say." Malon agreed, retreating to inside the house.

Her hands were shaking as she filled the kettle with water and lit the stove top. While the water boiled, she busied herself with placing tea leaves and sugar in a chipped porcelain cup. Had she done something wrong? Why would the Shadow do something so vindictive without reason?

Malon placed her cup on the table and stood beside the stove, watching the kettle. She could not take her mind off what had just happened. What the Shadow had done not only affected her, but the entire farm. Her father, Ingo, the horses, cuccos and cattle… their livelihood all depended on this ranch. If it went under, what would become of them? Did the Shadow even know the extent of the damage he had done?

"You seem distracted today." said a voice beside Malon, causing her to jump in alarm. "See what I mean?"

"Why are you doing this?" Malon whispered, refusing to face him directly.

"Every time with the questions." The Shadow said in annoyance. "It's getting old."

Malon stared down at the floor, wishing it would just split open and swallow her up. She wondered, if her wish was to be granted, would he still pursue her?

"Malon!" Talon said with a yawn, stretching into wakefulness as he entered the room. "Are you making breakfast?" He eyed the kettle hungrily, as if not realizing that kettles were only to boil water.

"It's more like dinner time, father." Malon replied questioningly. The Shadow was still next to her. Why wasn't her father acknowledging him?

"He can't see me from this angle." The Shadow answered her unspoken question. "Shadows deceive the eye that way."

"Breakfast? Lunch? Dinner? Dessert? Whatever you're making," Talon said, adopting a pitiful look, "you'd share with your poor, hungry father. Wouldn't you?"

Malon tried to explain that she was only making tea, but he already had his hopes up and she hated to be the one to shatter them. "Father, I…"

"Tell him no. Tell him you're making tea. And that he can't have any of it." The Shadow whispered in her ear, his words dripping with contempt. "Tell him to make his own. That you hate how he doesn't pull his own weight."

Malon looked to the frowning Shadow, then to her smiling father. She didn't want to defy the Shadow and risk his wrath, but she couldn't speak so cruelly to her own father!

"Tell him he's a fat, slovenly waste of space." the Shadow sneered.

"I…"

"SAY IT!" the Shadow bellowed in her face.

"You're a fat, slovenly…!" the words spilled out of her mouth before she could even think to stop them. By the time she realized what she was saying, she had already begun to say it. Better just to finish the insult, then, and avoid the Shadow's wrath. "…waste… of… space."

It broke her heart to say it, even worse when her father's face fell. His usual air of jolliness dropped, leaving only an empty middle-aged man. Satisfied, the Shadow departed.

Talon turned away from her, expression crushed, and walked towards the door.

"Father, wait!" Malon called, starting after him, but the piercing sound of a kettle over-boiling drowned her words. _I forgot the kettle! _She ran back to the stove, grabbing the kettle's handle immediately. However, she forgot that metal conducts heat and that she should always lift a kettle with a cloth or oven-mitt. The hot metal burned her hand. Malon drew back, not releasing the handle in time, causing the kettle to tumble off the stove and into the nearby haystack.

The hot metal ignited the dry straw, a fire coming to life in mere seconds.

Talon stopped, gaping at the fire in shock.

Ingo burst into the house, having seen the smoke from outside, and was the first to react. He removed his shirt and used it to beat at the fire, trying to douse the flames.

_Water…_ a voice inside Malon's mind suggested. _Hurry, before the whole house is up in flames! _Without a second thought, Malon darted out the door and into the barn.

The sun was setting, illuminating just enough to make out little more than just the shapes of objects inside. Malon hurried to the corner where she had left the water-filled bucket, only to find it adjacent to an identical one.

No! _Now_ she remembered! There were two buckets! But which one was the water bucket, the right or the left? Malon wove her fingers through her hair, ready to pull it all out. For the life of her, she couldn't tell which was which! And there was no time to just stand there thinking about it.

"If I recall correctly," the Shadow offered, sitting on a fallen crate, "the left one is the water bucket."

Malon glared at the Shadow. How could he be so calm at a time like this? Her house was burning down! She looked back at the buckets, making a decision. He was a master of deception, she would not trust him. So she grabbed the right bucket and sprinted out of the barn, across the space to her home, and ran inside.

Ingo was still beating at the flames, to no avail. Malon nudged him aside and splashed the bucket's contents onto the fire.

The flames increased, rising high, and spread onto a wooden beam in the wall. _It had been oil…_

"Malon! What are you thinking?!" Ingo yelled, shoving her aside and resuming his futile attack on the fire.

"I'll get the water!" Talon shouted.

"No, you moron!" Ingo retorted. "Water will spread the oil and make the fire worse!"

Malon sat, her legs splayed out at her side, where she had fallen. She could only stare at the dancing flames as they devoured her house, the only home she had ever known. It was the home her mother had kept.

What would happen to them now? They couldn't afford to build another house. And even if they could, where would they live in the meantime? Where would they sleep? In the barn or the stables, with the animals? Like animals?

She couldn't hear Ingo ordering for them to evacuate, or Talon's panicked screams. For her the world was silent, dead. Malon looked up at the smoke, billowing from the tips of the flames. For a succinct moment she thought she saw the smoke take shape, forming into the Shadow. He smirked down at her smugly, knowingly, as if saying _I told you so._

"Please." Malon said, though she could not hear her own voice. "Please, stop this. I'll do anything you want. I'll give you my unwavering loyalty, I swear it!" The tears ran down her cheeks in steady streams.

The smoke thickened with the flames, obscuring the Shadow, until Malon could no longer make him out.

"Wait!" Talon said, as if hit by a sudden epiphany. "Flour! Flour will absorb the oil!" He ran over to the cabinet, swinging it open, and retrieved a jar of flour. He hurried back and opened the jar, dusting the flour over the flames. Sure enough, the fire died down, until finally it was low enough for Ingo to douse it with his shirt.

Talon and Ingo stood over the charred mess, panting from their exertions. "How… did… you… know… about… the flour?" Ingo asked between breaths. "You… don't… know… anything!"

"I don't know!" Talon doubled over, clutching his stomach as he tried to catch his breath. "It just… came to me…" he stopped, swallowing, "all of a… sudden."

Malon said nothing, knowing full well who had whispered the idea into Talon's ear without him even noticing it.

Night had fallen. Ingo was sound asleep in his small shack near the stables. Talon snored loudly in his bedroom. Malon always found it interesting how her father could sleep so deeply at night, when sleeping was all he did during the day.

But then again, Malon had little else to do but mull over her own thoughts. She could not find sleep. She knew, somewhere, a dark shadow was watching over her. He had tormented her, shown inconceivable insight into her mind, and proven his dominance. Malon could not fight him, and she knew she could not fight him.

_Goddesses, help me. _She clutched her mother's brooch, seeking comfort. Outside, two red glimmers flashed in the darkness, and vanished. He was beckoning her.

Fighting to keep her fear at bay, Malon thrust her arms into her robe and laced up her boots. If he was waiting for her, she'd rise up and meet him. _Strength, Malon, strength._

Back to the horse track she went, the grass and gravel crunching underneath her feet, the cold nipping at her cheeks.

The field was different this night. It was dark, foreboding. The moon was but a sliver in the sky, providing only scant illumination. In the center of the field, waited an empty wooden chair. He had left it for her, Malon knew.

She approached it without hesitation. True that it might be a trap, but if he wanted to ensnare her, he hardly needed a chair to do so. Malon sat, the chair creaking even under her slight weight, and folded her hands in her lap. She waited.

A chill ran down her spine and she knew; he had arrived. She did not check behind her. Instead she waited patiently until he walked in front of her, arms crossed and unamused.

"So tell me," he said, his eyes glowing in the gloomy depths of the night, "are you always this easy to sabotage or am I just lucky?"

Malon faced him, awaiting whatever method of torment he had planned, but said nothing.

"What, no questions?" the Shadow asked, intrigued by her unusual silence. "No _why are you doing this?_ or _what do you want?_"

Malon's gaze did not falter, still she did not reply.

"I tried to warn you about the bucket." the Shadow continued, striving to incite a reaction. "And I tried to tell you to take the left one. But you're just bent on destruction, aren't you?" he was blaming her, trying to anger her or make her defensive.

Malon met him with silence.

The Shadow snarled, infuriated. He did not take well to being ignored. Stubbornly, he lunged at Malon's shoulders, shoving her backwards, and sent the chair to the floor.

Malon fell on her back, against the chair, her legs above her still in seated position. She cried out in surprise and the Shadow sneered, triumphant.

He paced around Malon; stopping to look down at her like a predator does his kill. Callously, he placed his boot on her cheek, pressing her face onto its side.

"_Now_ you understand." he stated spitefully, pressing her face into the damp ground. "I _own_ you. You are my _toy_. When a toy refuses to work for its master, it is broken. And what does one do with a broken toy?" Malon kept her silence. The Shadow growled low in his throat and removed his boot, bending down to shout straight in her face. "One disposes of them!"

His breath was hot against her face, so different from the chilled, incandescent black smoke that billowed from his form. Malon winced, but remained quiet.

The Shadow's breathing became labored, enraged. Why wouldn't she respond to him?! He wrapped his hands around her throat, meaning to strangle her until she reacted, or died, whichever came fist, but stopped. Something had caught his eye.

Instead of choking her, his hands slid down to the brooch clipped onto her scarf, stroking it only slightly, before he pulled his hands back.

"Quite a lovely pendant you have there." he said, taking hold of the back of the chair and pushing it upright.

"It was my mother's." Malon said softly.

"I didn't ask!" the Shadow snapped, inwardly successful for having drawn a reaction out of her.

Malon stood, taking a few steps away from the chair, and faced the Shadow directly. "You can't have it." she said, covering the brooch protectively with her hands.

"I can have whatever I please!" the Shadow retorted. Malon did not argue, fearing he would snatch away the brooch to prove his point. But the Shadow made no move to steal the brooch, and instead settled before her; pointing to the windmill. "Board it up." He commanded. "Every window, every crack, until no light can steal its way inside."

"Why?" Malon asked, innocently enough.

"Because so is my will!" the Shadow gave the farm girl a glare of admonition. He would not tolerate her misgivings.

Malon considered her options. If she randomly began boarding up buildings, in addition to already nearly burning down her house, Ingo and her father might very well send her to an asylum. On the other hand, she couldn't oppose the Shadow; Goddesses knew what he'd do to her. _The Goddesses…_

"Well?" the Shadow was growing impatient.

Malon gripped her skirts, knowing the risk with what she was about to do. But the Goddesses would protect their devoted followers, wouldn't they? Wouldn't good always conquer evil? Malon muttered, bracing herself for his reaction.

"What was that?" the Shadow inquired intolerantly.

"No." Malon said, keeping her eyes level with his.

"What?" his voice was strained with barely suppressed rage.

"No." Malon repeated. "I refuse! In the name of the Goddesses, you have no power over me!" she cried, clasping her hands together as she normally did in prayer. "Hear me Din; smite this heathen who dares spoil your sacred land! Heed me Nayru; strike down this skeptic who dares break your laws! Listen, oh Farore; slay this fiend who dares abuse the life you lovingly created!"

The Shadow's expression grew grim. He took slow, fuming steps towards the insolent little farm girl, with every intention to smother the prayers and chants out of her. Then, suddenly, he froze and gripped his chest in apparent agony.

Malon took note of his reaction and gained courage, her voice strengthening as she called to the heavens. "In the name of the Goddesses three, take down this spirit if evil! Back to the black depths from whence you came!"

The Shadow collapsed onto the floor, thrashing about.

"Creature of darkness…" Malon spoke the final words poignantly, "you have no power here."

The Shadow roared in defeat and exploded into black smoke. Malon breathed in relief. She had done it! She had banished him back to void! Though her body was too tired to do more than stand as it did, her spirit rejoiced!

Until she noticed something that chilled her spirit to the core…

The black smoke had not dissolved into the air. It hung in the air, darkening, thickening, coming closer and closer. Malon's jaw fell slack as the smoke reformed. Unfeasibly, the Shadow stood before again, unscathed.

"Just kidding." he said, bursting into a fit of terrifying laughter. "Did you really think it would be so easy?"

Malon shook her head, taking one, two, three steps back. It couldn't be! She had invoked the Goddesses themselves! Why hadn't they helped her?!

"Don't tell me you actually believe all that nonsense!" The Shadow said, a vicious grin spreading across his face. "You do!"

Malon took two more steps back, still refusing to believe what was happening. It was a nightmare. It had to be! There was no other explanation! She turned to flee, but a rough hand seized her arm, whirling her around to face him.

"Three golden Goddesses? Come on! Your religion is all lies!" his eyes burned, more hotly than the fire that had ravaged the crook of her home. "And just to prove it to you…" he twisted her arm, bringing it behind her back, and held it there, daggers of pain shooting through her arm. Malon screamed. "Let's see them save you now." the Shadow laughed again, twisting her arm further.

She did not think anything could save her now. She was going to die, she was certain of it! Nothing could possibly hurt so much without killing you.

But then, miraculously, a golden light really did shine down upon the field. Malon felt the grip on her arm release.

She pulled away; quickly enough to catch the Shadow's face contort into an expression of dread, before he disappeared.

Malon cradled her throbbing arm, looking up towards her salvation; the sunrise. A new day had dawned, driving away the spirits of the night.

* * *

**Zequistis Free Spirit:**(Gets all fangirly over Shadow Link with you) I'm glad you like my Shadow Link! He's a bit darker than most people write him, which I always found strange since he is _Dark _Link. But anyway, I'm so excited that you like my story! I can't even tell you how happy that makes me!**  
**

**shadowsasuke: **Another fellow girl gamer! (Salutes) There aren't many of us, we have to stick together! Thanks for the add to your favs! I'm so glad you like my story! I hope you like how it all pans out...

**little-chibi-girl: **(Looks around shifty-eyed) Huh? Me? Steal you line? Never! Uh... look over there! A three headed monkey! (Runs off, only to be dragged back by Shadow Link) Fine, be that way. Yeah, I have to admit that line was inspired by yours. But it was just such a Shadow/Dark Link thing to say! And don't worry, I promise to finish this story! I already have in mind how each of my chapters are going to be. Thanks for the support! I really apprciate it, especially from great fanfic writer like you!

**Spiritual Stone: **(Sniffs after reading your review) R-really? You really like it? (Hugs you) Thank you! Oh, I told Shadow Link that you love my version of him. He threw shoe at me, insensitive jerk! But that's why we love him. And I was happy to review your story! It was really quite good! I love how human you made the characters and (stops before I repeat my whole review to you again.) Anyway,thanks for continuing to read and review my story! I still love your penname...

**CrazyCat95: **(Blushes) Aw, thank you! Well, here's another chappie! Hope you liked it.

**Topaze Fire: **A thesaurus you say? Shadow Link! Take off your tunic so I can check for a thesaurus! (Shadow: What the hell is a thesaurus? Is it like a dinosaur? And I'm NOT taking off my tunic for you fangirls! Not after what happened last time) Damn, he's smarter than he looks. Oh, and his issued regarding Link are just beginning. He really doesn't like his fairer half, AT ALL. By the way, I love your reviews. They always point out what I'm doing right so I can apply it for the next chapter! As for the chapter titles, they're actually song lyrics to a song I've never heard. I happened to find the lyrics online by coincidence and thought "Hey, this fist perfectly!"

**The Legend of Soul Emblem: **Muahahaha. I update fast because I'm _evil_! Not really. I just seem to be on a roll with this story! And no problem with the help! Anytime! Well now we know want he _wants _Malon to do. But what's really going to _happen_.

**adrian-air-fire: **Was this fast enough? I hope so! I was up late finishing this chapter --'. Wonderous? My story? My, I didn't think this story would be so well received! Thank you so much! I can't even begin to explain how happy reviews make me!


	5. Sing To Me Your Twisted Melody

(Laughs, even as I post this chapter) Oh boy, I got a bit carried away on this one.

Oh, and guess who joins the party next chapter!**  
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**Sing To Me Your Twisted Melody**

Malon stared vacantly up at the ceiling. Her eyes scanned over the straw thatching and wooden beams that she'd seen a million times before. Her whole life she had slept in this room, in this bed, staring up at that same ceiling.

So then why did it seem so different now? Why did Malon feel like she had changed dramatically, though really she was just the same as always?

She sat up in bed, having woken from her brief nap only minutes prior. Her night had not been a peaceful one, but even now she could not seem to find sleep. _Force of habit, I suppose._ _So many years of rising before sunup, I can't sleep during the day._

Deciding there were more important things to be done than contemplating the ceiling; Malon rose and walked down to the kitchen.

Talon was sitting at the table, slumped over, asleep. Malon smiled affectionately and shook his shoulder gently to wake him. Talon bolted upright in surprise. "Huh? What? I wasn't asleep officer, I swear!" Talon blurted nervously, until his eyes fell on Malon and he relaxed.

"Good morning." Malon said sweetly. "You're up awfully early, aren't you?"

Talon looked away, folding his hands on the table and frowning, trying his hardest to appear serious. "I thought I'd get a head start on work today. Since my own daughter seems to think I'm good-for-nothing."

"Oh, father!" Malon kissed his cheek and pat his head. "I didn't mean it. I could never think ill of you!" Talon's shoulders slumped. He pouted pathetically. "Here, let me make you some breakfast to make up for it!" Malon offered, fetching a skillet even as she spoke.

"Alright!" Talon said, brightening. "Just as long as there's no hammering involved. Ingo woke me with all his constant hammering." Talon moped, as if Ingo had done it intentionally. Then again, he might have. Ingo _really_ didn't like the poor man.

Malon walked over towards the stove, her eyes catching the soot-encrusted corner of the room. Looking away, she lit the stove and dropped a spoonful of lard in the skillet. The grease bubbled and crackled over the heat. With one petite hand, Malon skillfully cracked an egg over the pan; not a single piece of shell falling into the food.

As she took a spatula and began stirring at the liquid mass, which was quickly taking on a firmer form as it cooked, her thoughts drifted. She thought of last night and how the Shadow had accosted her. There had been nothing that she could do, she was utterly powerless. Not even calling upon the Goddesses themselves could stop him. _And yet…_

A thud from behind caught Malon's attention. She turned to see Talon, who had collapsed on the floor, fast asleep. "It's too early for you, isn't it?" Malon said, a bit nostalgically. Inwardly she still remembered a time before he had been like this… but that wasn't important anymore.

She turned back to the skillet, only to find she was burning the eggs. Quickly, Malon scooped them out into a plate, managing to salvage them. It was best that she did as the Shadow had ordered her to as soon as possible. She could wash dishes later.

But before she went out, Malon took a moment to open the linens closet to remove a blanket and a pillow, tucking the pillow under her father's head and draping him with the blanket. It was true; he was far too lazy for a rancher. But then again, who was Malon to judge? She had almost burned down their home, after all.

So after giving her father a small peck on the forehead, Malon opened the front door and walked outside into the morning sun.

Ingo was there, hammering away, as her father had said he was. He seemed to be building new milk crates to make up for the ones that had been damaged; a pile of leather straps on one side of him, and a stack of wooden planks on the other.

"Good morning!" Malon greeted him brightly. Ingo muttered a gruff hello, too focused on his work at the moment to really pay attention.

The wooden planks in particular caught Malon's interest. She had been wondering where she would get the materials t board up the windmill. It seemed the Goddesses _were_ looking out for her.

"Ingo?" she asked, pointing to the stack of planks. "Would you mind if I took a few of these planks? It looks like you have more than enough."

Ingo grumbled a response. Malon couldn't quite make it out, but it sounded affirmative. She scooped up several nails—Ingo had a big box of them nearby—and tucked them into her dress pocket. Also in the box was a dull little key. Malon checked over her shoulder to make sure Ingo wasn't looking, and swiped up the tiny key into her pocket as well. Then, placing both hands on opposite sides of the planks, Malon lifted a few of the wooden boards and carried them towards the windmill.

Actually, now that she thought about it, she was lucky Ingo had been distracted, otherwise he might have asked to help her, and then she would have had to explain what she was _doing_. How could she explain randomly boarding up the windmill? He probably already suspected her sanity, or lack thereof.

Malon dropped the boards beside the base of the windmill. They fell with a hollow clunking sound onto the hard dirt, stirring up some loose sand into the air. Malon dusted her hands together and moved over to Ingo's tool shed.

The shed was a humble one, small and slanted from age. The door was chained and secured with a thick padlocked, which looked ridiculous considering the condition of the shed itself. If anyone really wanted to break in, they would have a much better chance of trying to knock over the poor thing. Malon reached into her pocket and pulled out the tiny key, which also contrasted sharply with the bulky lock, and unlocked it. Putting the lock and key to one side, Malon reached up and pulled away the cumbersome chains, unwinding them from the small shed, and placed them out of her way. She pushed on the door.

With a loud creak, the weak little door opened, dust flying into Malon's face as she entered. She coughed it up, blinking the dust out of her eyes, and proceeded. Hanging on the wall was the spare hammer. It was a tad heavier than the one Ingo was using, thus harder to wield, but Malon didn't feel it right to pester him at the moment. She picked the hammer off the wall, blowing off the dust that had collected on the old tool, and made her way out of the shed.

Malon replaced the chains, wrapping them around the little shed with care, and locked it securely.

She wasn't quite sure how to board up windows. She had never done anything quite like it before. Ingo was usually the one to handle the tools. _No harm in trying,_ Malon thought with a shrug. She might as well make an attempt, especially since currently there was harm in _not_ trying.

The farm girl lifted a board over one of the lower windows, holding it in place with one hand while her other dug through her pocket for a nail. Finding one, she placed it over the corner of the board, and lifted the former hand to pick up the hammer.

The board crashed to the floor. "Well… shoot!" Malon frowned at her own naivety. She had forgotten that hand had been busy holding up the board…

Still she persisted, figuring it couldn't be all that hard. Once again she lifted the board, held it in place with one hand, the other hand placed the nail—this time using the latter hand, or more accurately arm, to hold the board in place—as the former hand picked up the hammer.

"Alright. So far, so good." Malon encouraged herself, bringing the hammer down on the nail.

No effect. She would have to hammer harder! "At least the board didn't fall this time!" Malon giggled, trying to keep her spirits high, and brought down the hammer with force.

The tip of the nail went in. Malon squealed at the sight of her achievement. Again she brought down the hammer with force, but the angle of her aim was slightly askew, causing the nail to bend and fall out of place.

"Oh no…" Malon sighed. This was going to be more difficult than she thought.

Luckily she had picked up an abundance of nails. Persistently, and motivated by her fear of a certain Shadow, Malon tried and retried, time and time again, until finally she began to catch on. By midday the windows were sealed; no sunlight would peek into this windmill!

Wiping her forehead with her arm, Malon breathed in accomplishment. It wasn't the most aesthetically pleasing job, in fact it was downright sloppy, but it was effective.

She went back to the shed; returning the hammer, back to Ingo; returning the left over nails, and inside the house to fix herself a drink. The choices weren't many, either water or milk, but they were cool and refreshing. Malon made due.

Swirling the water in her glass, Malon noticed the plate of eggs she had prepared that morning. She had completely forgotten about that! Her father was still asleep, no surprise there, so he hadn't managed to eat them. She put down her glass, her shoulder drooping.

"What am I going to do with you?" Malon sighed, taking the plate and tilting the contents into the skillet. She only put the skillet over the fire briefly, to warm the eggs, and then poured them right back onto the plate.

Though, she wasn't sure what she should do with the food. Malon's appetite wasn't in its best condition, considering all the knots in her stomach from nerves. Ingo wouldn't want to be disturbed when he was working, and Talon was off in dreamland. And it would be a shame to let perfectly good eggs go to waste; they had come out so fluffy too.

Strangely, the Shadow came to mind. He hadn't haunted her all day. Malon wanted to believe it was because she had obeyed him, but sadly she knew better. He would taunt her anyway, he didn't need a reason.

"But I don't know if he even _can_ eat." Malon mused aloud. Well, he did have a mouth. So why not? Maybe if she made an effort to be nice…

It was silly of her, she knew. The Shadow did not seem the _nice_ type, and there was no guarantee he'd have _any_ sort of interest in her cooking. But Malon was feeling charitable at the moment, mostly out of pride after completing such an unfamiliar task, so she prepared some toast to go along with the eggs and decided to take the meal to him anyway.

Of course, once outside, Malon realized she wasn't quite sure where to take the meal _to_. He hadn't shown himself all day. Oddly enough, Malon felt almost abandoned.

Then it hit her. He had never shown himself outside in daylight! Whenever he had appeared to her in the day, it was always indoors; out of the light. She only met him outside in the night. And then that very morning, he had spared her only when the sun had risen. Was the Shadow… _afraid_?

It made sense. Shadows typically did not do well in direct light. And wasn't that what he was, a shadow of a man?

Unexpectedly, Malon felt a twinge of pity in her heart. She couldn't imagine being unable to go out in the day, to never feel the warmth of the sunlight on her face. How depressing it must be, to live only in darkness. She wondered if he was unhappy. Was that the reason he was tormenting her like this? Was he despondent because he was… _sad_?

The windmill came to mind, his words echoing in Malon's mind, _"Board it up. Every window, every crack, until no light can steal its way inside."_ So that must have been the reason. He had wanted her to create a sanctuary for him, a place to hide out, where he could wait comfortably until nightfall.

With a newfound sense of motivation, Malon headed for the windmill.

She knocked with apprehension, one trembling hand holding the plate of food she had brought for him. No answer. Cautiously, Malon opened the door and crept inside.

It was dark inside the windmill, the scant illumination being only the slight rays of sun that managed to shine through the boards. It was almost like dusk. Malon's eyes adjusted quickly enough, and she looked around for any sign of him.

"Shut the door!" hissed a disembodied echo in the room. Malon jumped back against the door, shutting it.

"H-h-hello?" Malon bit her lip at the sound of her own voice. Why did she always grow so weak in his presence?

"What do you want?" came that same angry hiss. Malon strained to make out where the voice was coming from, to no avail. "I told you, when I am absent you are to forget me!"

"I'm sorry!" Malon wasn't sure if he was finished talking, but she was desperate to speak her piece before he decided to lop her head off. "I just… thought I'd bring you something to eat."

For a moment he was silent, as if her odd reply had left him speechless. When he spoke again his voice was calmer, though no less irate. "Come here. Behind the crates."

Malon stepped forward. There were several storage crates in the windmill. They were special, enchanted boxes. An ice spell had been cast on them, keeping the inside of the crate cold and making it perfect for storing perishable goods. Behind a few of them, in the corner, he sat. His right leg was stretched out in front of him, his left bent at the knee, with one arm draped over the raised leg. He looked so… _normal._

He did not look at her. "What was that?"

"I brought you something to eat." Malon replied nervously, thankful that at least those red eyes of his were not burning into her. "I wasn't sure if you ate or not, but if you do; you must be famished."

He didn't respond for a while. In the meantime, Malon surveyed the area around him. There was a crate at his feet; he seemed to have cracked it open. A few empty milk bottles were scattered around, some of them broken. _So he does consume…_

"I don't require edible sustenance." he said finally, his eyes still focused elsewhere.

"Oh." Malon began to back away, deciding this had been a very bad idea. "I guess I'll just take it and go then—Ahh!" she gave a short scream as a swarthy hand grabbed her wrist, snatching the plate away. Then he sat back down, shoveling the eggs into his mouth with a slice of toast.

Malon breathed in relief, her hands to her chest. He had really frightened her!

She couldn't tell if he enjoyed the food or not; he practically inhaled it, leaving no time to taste. But the knowledge that he could eat was still reassuring; it made him seem almost… _human_. More at ease, though still wary, she sunk to the floor and sat beside him.

The Shadow froze, mid-scoop, his cheeks still full-to-burst with egg. His eyes moved to stare at her and he gave her a glare. In one fluid movement, he swallowed the food in his mouth, and turned to her.

"What now?" he snapped, tearing a harsh bite out of his toast.

"N-nothing!" Malon sputtered defensively. "It's just; it's nicer to dine with company. Don't you think?" She had been brought up that way, but taking another look at him, she wasn't so sure he'd agree.

The Shadow chewed his toast loudly, still glaring. He snorted at her derisively and swallowed. "Whatever you say." he said, words lined with sarcasm. He turned back to his food ignoring her completely while he ate. Malon sat beside him, legs tucked to one side, twiddling her fingers in her lap. Finished, he put down his plate and gestured to the opened crate. "Pass me one." he said calmly.

It took Malon a moment to react, but once she realized what he wanted; she scrambled to her feet and fetched him a bottle, handing it to him as she took back her seat at his side.

"Do you know what that is?" Malon asked innocently as he popped off the lid with his thumb.

"It's milk." he replied in annoyance, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world.

"Not just any milk." Malon said softly, staring down her hands. "It's milled milk; a Lon-Lon specialty."

"What the hell is that?" the Shadow said disdainfully, taking a swig of the milk bottle. Milled milk was a special, mildly alcoholic milk, sold almost exclusively on holidays. Milled milk was always prepared earlier in the year, then stored for fermentation until late autumn.

"It's very popular around Cucco Day and Hyrinmas." Malon began to explain.

"Never mind, I don't want to know." the Shadow said plainly, downing the rest of the bottle in one long gulp. "Get me another." he said, tossing the empty bottle aside.

Malon hesitated, looking around at all the bottles he had already emptied. It wasn't that she worried he'd become inebriated, milled milk had a very low alcohol content, but these crates of milled milk were their produce! If he drank their entire supply, what would they sell?!

"I'm sorry, but… please." She signaled to the crates. "We need this shipment! It's our main source of income in the winter, when many of our other products our low."

The Shadow grabbed her outstretched hand in a flash, though he did not grip it tightly, and leaned right into her face. "Forget your concerns and reservations." he said, unblinkingly. "Throw them into the fire and let them burn."

Malon's breathing went shallow all of a sudden. He was so close… it scared her witless, and yet it was a thrilling sort of fear! His words burned deep into her heat, engraving themselves. Malon nodded dumbly, incapable of anything more.

"Now," he spoke softly and slowly, condescendingly, "go and fetch me another bottle. If you're so damn _worried_ about it, get one for yourself so you can drown the worry out of your system!" He moved away from her, resuming his seated position.

Malon had a bad feeling about all this. Still, she knew she'd be feeling much worse if the Shadow decided to turn on her. She opted for the safer option and went to fetch him another bottle.

Staring down at the crate, Malon hesitated for a second, but then reached in and took a second bottle for herself. He had already drunk so many, what harm would one more do?

She sat back beside him, handing him his bottle. He nodded in reply, popping the top off with ease.

Malon struggled with the lid. Usually she used a knife to open these things. The Shadow looked at her through the corner of his eye, mildly amused by her frustration.

"Pathetic." he chuckled. "Just like your workmanship." he pointed to the sloppy mess of boards nailed to the windows. "Give me that!" he snatched away her bottle of milk, popping the top off for her, and shoved it back into her chest.

"Oh…" Malon flushed, embarrassed by how easy he made it look. "Thank you."

The Shadow regarded her oddly, as if what she had just said was exceptionally bizarre, before taking another swig of his drink, finishing it. He didn't need to ask; Malon stood and fetched him another bottle.

This time, she carried back as many as she could hold, figuring this would save her a few trips, and set them down next to him.

They settled into a comfortable silence, the only sounds being the Shadow's greedy gulps or the pop when he opened a new bottle. Malon was surprised with how placid he seemed, just sitting there, drinking milk. He was hardly the same evil specter that had threatened her life.

After a long while, he spoke. "I hate cuccos." Malon came out of her reverie, looking up at him in puzzlement.

"Excuse me?" it had been such an arbitrary thing to say.

"I hate them." he reiterated basically, taking another swig before he continued. "I mean, the eggs are decent enough," he signaled to his empty plate, "but the little bastards themselves seem like something straight out of the Dark World."

"The… Dark World?" Malon inquired curiously.

The Shadow stilled, probing the side of his inside cheek with his tongue for a moment before answering. "Yeah. It's… where I came from."

Malon was surprised. She had never really thought that the Shadow _came_ from somewhere, that he had a past. More importantly, she had never _imagined_ that he would ever share anything about himself with her.

"What's it like?" Malon asked, pivoting to face him directly.

The Shadow shrugged dismissively, talking into the rim of the bottle. "It's a world… and it's dark." he took another drink, temporarily avoiding further questions.

_I should have guessed._ He always had to make matters hard for her. "But, if there's a dark world, why are you here?" Wouldn't a Shadow prefer a world without light?

"Because I'm a shadow." He growled, throwing the bottle at the opposite wall, the glass shattering upon impact. "In a world of complete darkness, with no light to separate one silhouette from the next, all shadows fuse together. Without a real form, you lose yourself, begin to doubt if you ever really even existed." His fist clenched over another bottle. Malon worried for a moment that he would shatter it in his grasp.

His explanation was unintentionally revealing. The Shadow wanted to be an individual, to stand out among the shadows; not be lost among them.

"Do you have a name?" She didn't know why she asked, it just seemed like the thing to say at the time. An individual needs a name, to signify them, to refer to only them, to stand out.

The Shadow said nothing, and Malon had her answer. _No… _It was so sad! All this time she had been stressing over the trouble he gave her, when secretly he was fighting his own battles. He didn't want to fade away…

"You need a name." Malon said kindly. "That which is remembered, is that which has a spoken utterance." Malon recited the old proverb from memory. The Shadow did not appear amused.

"Names are not my practice!" he snapped, as if Malon was to blame for this unfortunate fact.

Malon wanted to help him. She wasn't sure why, considering how miserable he had made her the last few days, but she wanted to help him. A common name wouldn't suit him; he was far too unique for that. But she did not want to offer him an outrageous name either; she might anger him.

She pondered the idea long and hard. The Shadow went through the remainer of the crate while she thought, until finally a solution presented itself.

"Knil!" she announced enthusiastically.

The Shadow pulled his face out of his current bottle, facing her in perplexity. "What?"

"A name for you. How's Knil?" she tried to be sweet, but it was difficult when she considered who she was talking to.

"Knil?" he raised both eyebrows. "That's just Link inversed." he scoffed. "You couldn't have come up with a worse name if you tried." He clutched the bottle he held furiously, smashing it in his grip. He looked down at the glass shards in his hand with mild annoyance, before dissolving and reforming his arm, the glass falling through the smoke and to the floor.

Malon shook her head, she had prepared to elaborate. "It's the complete opposite of Link." The Shadow regarded her with contempt, but Malon would not be discouraged. "Listen, you can only go so far in the alphabet before you run out of letters and start over, right? Well, if you want to find the complete opposite of a letter, the farthest you could move is, ironically, all the way around to the original letter."

"What _is_ your point?" the Shadow leaned his head back against the wall, seeming suddenly very tired.

"If you try to get the farthest you can from the name Link, you eventually come back to Link." Malon continued. "So then the only way to further change the name is to flip it backwards!"

The Shadow closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Malon awaited his response. He gave none.

Dejected, Malon bowed her head and stood to bring him more milled milk. As she returned, the Shadow opened his eyes and watched her sit.

"That had to be the most inane dribble I have ever had the displeasure of sitting through." he stated, matter-of-factly. "And I've had to listen to both Ganon and Vaati."

Malon held out a bottle of milk for him, eyes averted, hoping they could forget about it and just drop the subject.

"Then again," he resumed speaking unexpectedly, taking the offered bottle, "it's not like I have many other options."

It took a moment for his words to sink in. Malon looked up at him in astonishment. He had actually accepted an idea from her? And an idea as important as his name, no less!

"So…" Malon began uncertainly, "do I call you Knil now?"

"How fitting." he said to himself, ignoring her question. "Nil means nothing."

"But the name has a nifty silent letter!" Malon said in her defense. "Silent letters are classy."

"Mm." He took a deep breath, and then sighed, sitting up straight. "How sophisticated of me."

"The elegant type, are you Knil?" Malon chimed in, working to get used to the name.

"Right." Knil attempted to take another drink from the bottle he held, finding it empty, and clicked his tongue in irritation.

"Do you want another one?" Malon asked, hardly believing she was offering him their stock!

"Damn it!" he stood and walked over to an unopened crate, pulling it near to where he had been sitting, and broke it open. "There, now we don't have to get up." He plopped back down beside Malon, handing her another bottle.

Malon didn't mean to offend, but personally she was beginning to feel a bit stuffed. Discreetly, she put down her bottle, still holding it in her hands, and watched him down the rest of the crate, one bottle at a time.

"Tell me," it was a command, not a request, "why do you care so much about that slob of a father of yours?"

Malon gazed down at her hands, stroking the smooth glass bottle she held, watching the thin ripples of the milky fluid inside. "He wasn't always like this." she replied softly. "He used to be a very dedicated worker." Malon smiled bitter-sweetly, reminiscing on days long passed. "I'm told he practically built this whole ranch by himself."

Knil stared at her in rapt interest. Her demeanor had gone from humorous to dismal in mere seconds.

"When my mother died," she paused, looking up and brushing a few stray strands of hair out of her face, "he changed. He was deeply depressed, spent most of his time sleeping the days away... I suppose it was just his way of escaping the hurt; like me and my singing." Malon licked her lips, hating how much memories could sting, even after so long.

Knil looked away, leaning back and staring up at the gears above him, still listening intently.

"You know, I remember it." She sniffled, her throat was beginning to hurt; inflamed from unshed tears. "There was a sickness going around at the time. Many people caught it. The Queen did too. I remember… I was so _angry_. Everyone mourned the Queen when she passed, pitied the young princess who lost her. My mother died around the same time… but who cried for her, my father? Who pitied _me_?"

She clenched her fists, the old rage building in her again. Knil did not turn his head, but his eyes darted to where she sat, watching her, intrigued by her emotions.

"I know… it was childish. But it was so _unfair_! My mother was such a kind, beautiful, strong woman! And her voice… a gorgeous, clear, crystalline soprano." Tears pricked Malon's eyes. She did not bother to wipe them away. "Why didn't everyone suffer her loss like I did?" The tears fell, sliding down her delicate cheeks in twin rivulets.

Knil turned to face her, wide-eyed, the sight of her tears exciting him.

"Ingo came to work for us soon after." Malon managed to choke out, her voice hoarse and tear-clogged. "He saved the ranch, really. I was too young to manage it alone. Without him, I think I would have died."

Malon closed her eyes, shuddering. She was crying now, she couldn't hide it. She had forgotten who she was speaking to, where she was.

His hand on hers was what brought her back to reality. Malon's eyes slid open, baffled by his reaction. Did he mean to console her?

No. He only moved her hand off of the bottle she was holding, taking it from her. Malon stared, eyes till damp, as he opened the bottle and placed it back in her hands.

"Drink it away." he said flatly. "Let go. No one cares about your pain, I sure as hell don't, why should you?"

In a weird, twisted way; he was right. The past couldn't hurt her anymore, and the world seemed to have shut her away. So why bother caring? Malon lifted the bottle to her lips and took a long, thirsty drink. She guzzled the entire bottle, and then brought a hand to her mouth as she coughed; having forced too much down at once.

Knil stared for a moment, and then palmed his own forehead, chuckling. "You really aren't very bright." He ran his hand through his silver bangs, the hair floating in the air long after he touched it.

"I suppose not." Malon admitted.

She turned in her seat again, no longer facing him, but instead sat to his side, as close to him as she dared get. They went on drinking, consuming absurd amounts of milled milk, until finally the alcohol began to take affect. They began to make absurd toasts, taking a swig of milk after each one.

"To cuccos!" Malon said, raising her bottle.

Knil glared but met her toast. "Filthy bastards." he muttered under his breath before taking his drink. "To stupid names."

Malon laughed, clinking her bottle against his, and took a drink with him. "To incompetent ranchers!"

"_Lazy_ bastards." Knil mumbled, meeting her toast, and took a drink. "Well then, in that case, to wicked shadows that make a hobby of psychologically scarring idiotic farm girls."

"Shadowy bastards." Malon said, narrowing her eyes. Knil stared at her for a moment, drawn aback by her curse, before they both burst into fits of laughter. "Okay, okay, I've got one!" Malon said between giggles, trying to calm enough to speak. "To milled milk!"

"Finally, something we can _all_ agree on!" Knil said, slamming his bottle against Malon's a little too roughly, knocking her bottle over. They both laughed at the sight.

"You know, if Ingo ever found out, he'd _kill_ me." Malon said, sobering, her nerves getting the best of her.

"Murdering bastard." Knil retorted. Malon collapsed into uncontrollable laughter, again.

They went on that way until they had emptied half the crates and Malon could take no more. Full and exhausted, she leaned against his arm, feeling more satisfied than she had since she had played with Link as a child.

Knil stiffened at the contact, shifting uncomfortably, but then settled and let her stay.

Time drifted by, in them and around them. The two sat silently. Somehow, it was nice to just have someone there; someone you could feel was there beside you, without the clutter of words or proclaimed feelings. The truth was, Malon was nothing to Knil, and Knil was nothing to Malon. And in a way, the moment was better for it. They had no reason to judge each other, no need to worry if they would consider one another differently by the next day. There was nothing but the body of another person to lean on, to support yourself against. It felt safe.

They stayed that way until nightfall. Knil shrugged Malon off and rose, having plans of his own. Malon stood, dusting off her skirts, and walked out with him.

They said not a word to each other and parted ways; Knil off to do whatever it was he did, and Malon to bed.

That night, she slept more peacefully than she had in years.

* * *

**little-chibi-girl: **I make him smexy? Oh my! (Knil: No! I'm already smexy!) Personally, I like your Dark Link so far. He seems weaker, me thinks, just because of his situation. But he's stil incredibly smexy! Speaking of which, your dun dun dun has me all excited now. Update! 

**ForTheLoveOfSugar: **Listen kid, I love ya and all, but lay off the smack. XD

**adrian-air-fire: **This one took me an extra day. Dang it. Reviews pouring in, you say? (Mental image of letters pouring out of cmmputer screen) I hope so! I've become addicted to them! It's kind of sad, really...

**carol evilsquirrel-monster: **I'm glad you decided to read it, even if you don't like Malon fics! Thanks for giving my story a chance! I hope I don't dissapoint!

**Rose Witch: **Thank you! You'r too kind. Details are a funny thing. Sometimes they just seem to flow out easily. Sometimes I have to struggle through them. Go figure.

**Spiritual Stone: **Ahahaha! Poor Malon. Is she stupid? Or is she just a typical, naive, religious little girl? Wait, aren't they the same thing? Ah, well. Knil can be the smart one. And the sexy one. You know what, forget Malon. et's make this fic about HIM!

**Zequistis Free Spirit: **Yeah, I was really proud of the sunrise part. Poor Knil, he no likey sun. I'm happy you like my Shadow Link! I tried to make him dark without making him unlikeable or emo. I really dont like it when authors make him too whiny. He's the embodiment of Link's evil for crying out loud!

**The Legend of Soul Emblem: **(Cracks up) I love how you kept adding to the jerk thing everytime he did something jerkish. Reminds me of how Knil kept adding "bastard" to everything. (Malon: Hint hint? What are you talking about... Light? Yes, he is light. Not at all as heavy as I would expect) Sigh... Malon.

**Topaze Fire: **Well, Link doesn't really keep his stuff in his tunic. He keeps it in an alternate dimension which most arsenal-important video game characters have access to. They're sort of like little storage lockers, floating around in an infinitetly empty alternate universe. Link has his own space there. This space is often dubbed "hammer space" due to one of his most noticeable weapons, the Megaton Hammer. Anyway, now that I'm done spouting random nonsense, more to the point! Yes, last chapter was a dark one. So I made this chapter a light-hearted one to balance things out! Not that the good mood will last for long... Knil, what _does _he want? He still hasn't said much about himself, has he? He's mysterious. (Shifty-eyed)


	6. Mesmerized, It Never Seems To End

Eep! This took so long! I'm sorry! I'll try not to do that again!

Part of the reason, though, is that I'm faced with a bit of a dilemma. You see, while this story does revolve around Malon, it slowly uncovers Knil. Every chapter a little more of Knil is revealed. But there's one aspect of his that I plan to cover in the next couple chapters.

The problem? It's an adult topic. Now while I've never written an "M" scene before, I feel that it is vital to Knil's character to show how he treats such a situation and his reaction after. However, I am also aware that my readers may be uncomfortable with this. (Even I'm a bit uneasy about writing this kind of scene)

So, I've been mulling over this issue for that last several days. Now it's time to hear what you think, my dear readers!

* * *

**Mesmerized, It Never Seems To End**

The next morning, Malon actually managed to be up on time. She felt well rested, though a slight twinge of pain had begun to form in her head. _Too much milled milk,_ Malon reasoned. She had never been a drinker. The only time she ever had milled milk was on holiday, and even then, _never_ an entire bottle!

Her mouth felt like cotton, and the unpleasant taste of bile rose in her throat. Trying her best to ignore her headache for a moment, Malon poured herself a glass of water and gulped it down greedily. She set the glass down, slightly dizzy from the sudden intake of fluids, and blinked to focus her vision.

Clumsily, Malon picked out her clothes for the day and fetched herself a towel. A warm bath would help with the headache.

She did not see Ingo on her way out, though she caught a glimpse of her father asleep on the floor, thus she was not bothered. Fortunate, for her head was beginning to pound.

Outside, Malon squinted; shielding herself from the sunlight. The bright rays only heightened the increasing migraine, Malon rushed into the washroom, shutting the door behind her in relief. Ironic, that the sun should bother her now, when before it had been her salvation.

_Maybe he's slowly turning me into a shadow too…_ Malon shuddered at the thought. Lethargically, Malon filled the washtub and built up a fire in the hearth beneath it. As she waited for the water to heat, she pulled up a chair and sat; rubbing at her temples to relieve the pressure. The relative dark and the warmth from the fire began to loosen the tightness in her head, thankfully.

As steam began to rise from the washtub, Malon stripped bare and stepped carefully into the bath. The warm water slipped over her skin like silk. Malon sighed, taking in the much welcomed respite, leaning against the side of the tub, and let herself relax. Had she been tired she may have fallen asleep, but her sleep had been a deep one the past night, so instead she reached over to the nearby shelf to retrieve the small vial of soap.

Humming placidly as she did so, Malon began to slide the lightly scented liquid across her limbs until it foamed. The suds spread into the water, coating the top with a mantle of little bubbles. Malon smiled at the sight, innocently amused.

Finished cleansing, she placed the vial back in its place and submerged herself into the water to rinse away the lather. She emerged instantly, too cautious to daydream, knowing _he_ may be close by.

Suddenly realizing the possibility to Knil's presence, Malon stiffened. He wouldn't hurt her… would he? Not now. Not after yesterday. They had reached some sort of truce, hadn't they?

From the corner of her eye, Malon was certain she spied movement in the shadows. She whirled around. The soft sounds of rippling water were her only company. She was alone.

Malon sat back down in the bath, crossing her arms over her chest warily. Even if she did not see him, he could still be there. She had learned all too well how shadows could deceive.

She was faced with a dilemma. On the one hand, if she tried to continue with her bath, she would be left uncovered and Knil would undoubtedly see her. On the other hand, she couldn't sit there in the cooling water, covering herself, forever! Weighing her limited options, Malon decided to try a compromise. Keeping one hand over her chest, she floated over to the shelf to retrieve another vial; containing cream soap for her hair.

Now the difficult part. How was she going to open the vial with one hand? Let alone use it!

Malon tucked her thumb under the lid and pushed upward, attempting to pry it open. But try as she might, lacking leverage and her hands being slippery with soapy water, she could not budge the lid.

Persistently, Malon continued to struggle with the lid, her fingers beginning to hurt from pressing against the glass, until a deft hand reached out and snatched the vial from her. At the sight of the familiarly grey skin, Malon ducked; submerging herself up to her chin, concealing herself with her arms.

He chuckled behind her.

"Get out!" Malon shrieked, not bothering to turn around, lest she give him a better view.

"That's no way to greet a guest." Knil said listlessly. "Especially when they're trying to help you."

_Help me? _It seemed odd that he'd want to help her. And considering his _help_ in the past, Malon was disinclined to accept his generosity. "Couldn't you help me at a more convenient time? Like, say, when I'm dressed!" Malon snapped.

"Now, now." Knil scolded her, ever sarcastic and condescending. "Beggars can't be choosers."

"Please…" Malon held herself tighter, her anger fading, only to be replaced by that chilling fear that always accompanied him.

"Lean back." He instructed calmly.

"Don't look." She squeaked up feebly.

"If such was my intention, I would have remained hidden." Knil replied smugly. "Now lean back."

He had a point. If lechery was his intention, he wouldn't have had to show himself and engage in idle chatter. Reluctantly, Malon moved back and leaned against the tub edge, covering her breasts with her hands modestly, just in case.

With uncharacteristic gentility, Knil slipped his free hand under her hair, bringing it out of the water, and draped it over the edge of the tub. Curiously, his hand combed through the long tresses, fascinated with how his fingers caught in unruly knots. Her damp locks shimmered in the dim morning light, a rich chocolate color which shined red when hit by the light. The color alone intrigued him to no end; how could so many different shades blend together into such long, soft strands, curling slightly at the tips? He played with a few curls, tugging at them, observing how they straightened and then reformed, never in exactly the same shape as before.

His own hair, or the dull reflection of another's hair that he possessed, paled in comparison. It was of one hue, and one hue only. Plain. When it shifted out of place, it soon found its way back. Even the effects of gravity were limited.

Not with her. Her curls fell and moved with life. He could imagine her running, how would she look then? How would her tresses shine, even more colors blossoming under the sunlight, flowing in the wind, winging out behind her?

He had wanted to touch her hair since he had laid eyes upon it, and now that he finally held it, he did not think he could find it in himself to give it back!

Malon sat still, mystified by his actions. She felt the cold of the cream soap on her head, and knew then he really _was_ helping. She often had trouble scrubbing clean her long, unruly hair.

Replacing the vial upon the shelf, Knil wove his fingers into her hair, lathering the soap. Malon gasped at the sensation, his ministrations oddly gentle. The pads of his fingers scratching softly against her scalp sent shivers through her body. He ran his hands through her hair, accidentally brushing the back of her neck, drawing another gasp. Though she hated to admit it, as he gingerly continued his attentions, Malon could feel a warm tightness in her lower belly. As uncomfortable as the situation was, his contact was pleasing, and much to her own shame; Malon found herself picturing those skilled hands on her shoulders, running down her back.

A pink blush tinged Malon's cheeks. Where were these thoughts coming from? It wasn't like her at all! She was pure! Even when it came to Link, she never allowed herself to imagine beyond chaste kisses!

Knil stilled, his hands still tangled in her hair, taking note of Malon's sudden rigidness. He tilted his head to the side, observing her. He didn't know quite what to make of her reaction, but it excited him. Just like the previous day, when he had watched her cry, the sight of tears had sent a physical thrill through him.

Blood, sweat, tears; he could produce none of them, and his curiosity had grown into a bizarre fixation, an infatuation. He couldn't get enough of it, any of it. He wanted to touch it all, run it through his fingers, across his chest, to bring it to his lips and taste it. Taste _her_. How would her tears taste? Would they contain her essence? Like water with traces of her flesh? How would her _flesh_ taste? And if he bit down against the supple soft skin, how would the blood feel against his tongue?

Knil sucked in a breath, regaining his composure. Now wasn't the time to goad himself into a frenzy. He had to remain controlled. When the time came, she would give him what he wanted. Then he'd have no need to obsess over her humanity. The novelty would wear off.

Malon remained still, feeling him work the soap through her hair, until he seemed to be finished. She thought he would release his grip on her, so that she could rinse off. And yes, his hands ran through and out of her hair. But then, unexpectedly, Knil clutched Malon's head. She began to gasp in surprise, but soon found herself being pushed into the water.

It was a repeat of that day. She struggled to come up for air, but he held her down under the water, relentlessly. She thrashed and squirmed, but it made no difference to him. He was stronger than her, and his position gave him the advantage.

_Will he drown me this time?_

Impossibly, even as he held her under the water, she could feel his hands stroking at her hair. Malon stopped struggling, wondering if perhaps this was another one of his perverse ideas of helping. Her lungs were beginning to burn from lack of air, but just then he released her.

Malon emerged, gasping for breath, and rounded on him in anger, careful to keep herself covered. "What was _that_?!"

"Rinse cycle." Knil replied, nonchalant, his back to her. He was moving away from her, suddenly more interested in her neatly folded clothing, sitting atop the counter.

"Why…?" Malon murmured, more to herself than to him. "Why do you do that?"

Knil looked through the blouse and skirt, searching for the scarf that held, ah—there it was. That brooch. "Hmm?" He lifted his head, having just barely registered her question. "Do what?"

Malon sniffled, the water was cold now and she was beginning to shiver. "Though I suppose the better question would be how, rather than why."

Knil traced the outline of the brooch lightly, not really listening to the girl behind him.

Malon continued, not caring whether or not he was paying any attention. After all, she doubted he'd give her a straight answer. He never did. "How can you be so kind one moment, and so cruel the next?"

At the sound of her words, Knil straightened and disappeared. Malon drooped in a mixture disappointment and relief, turning around.

He was instantly in front of her, balanced on the opposite edge of the tub, leaning forward at an angle which would be impossible to stand at without falling. Impossible for anyone else, but him.

"Kind?" She could not tell if he was annoyed or amused. Perhaps he was both. "You think I'm _kind_?" He laughed, a dry, humorless chuckle, and scooped up a handful of soapy water, flinging it into her eyes. Malon drew back with a squeal, wiping at the sting in her eyes. "You really are stupid."

She opened her eyes, only to shut them again, trying to blink the soap out. Finally, Malon managed to bring the sting down to a bearable level, and looked back at him with runny eyes.

He was up near the high window, looking out. He held himself up with only one hand on the window ledge, and appeared otherwise weightless. Malon had meant to protest, but something in his expression made her stop. He looked profoundly perturbed. Whatever he had spotted outside, he definitely didn't seem to like it.

"What's wrong?" Malon asked out of habit, before remembering she had been about to yell at him.

"What isn't?" came his gruff reply. Knil let go of the window sill, floating down to the floor insubstantially. He landed with his usual grace, his gaze on the floor, still seeming bothered. After a moment he seemed to remember where he was and looked up at Malon with a smirk. "Get ready." he ordered smugly, knocking her clothes off the counter and onto the dirt floor with a sweep of his arm. "And be quick about it!" He turned away, walking towards the shadows in a corner of the room. "You don't want to keep him waiting…" Knil's voice faded away as he dissolved into the shadows.

Malon opened her mouth to ask who he meant, but by then he was gone.

Malon dressed quickly. She didn't know _why_ Knil had her in such a rush, but she figured it was better not to risk his wrath. Donning her scarf, Malon caressed her brooch thoughtfully. Knil was unhappy; their time together in the windmill had proven that. But what was his purpose in tormenting her like this? It wouldn't make anything better. Malon sighed. When she thought about things that way, Knil seemed more like a fitful child than an evil specter.

She opened the washroom door, the rich morning light pouring in to greet her. _What a brat, _Malon walked out towards the barn, lost in thought. _Honestly! Didn't his mother ever teach him any better? _Malon halted, understanding dawning on her. _He doesn't have a mother. Or anyone for that matter. The solitude of a shadow… _Sadness and pity washed over Malon, completely replacing her earlier resentment towards Knil. She cast her vision to the ground, staring at the sun-baked grass that Knil would never feel.

"He must be so lonely…" Malon mused aloud.

"Who is?" came a familiar, light-hearted voice.

Malon's head snapped up, her eyes shaking as she took in the sight of him standing before her. Lithe, welcoming smile; kind, sky-blue eyes; those untidy, lemon-drop bangs that fell perfectly over his face; tall, lean, but well-toned frame; and that forest tunic, natural and heroic in the morning sun.

She'd know him anywhere, from a mile away, from a thousand miles away. She'd know him from just one feature alone, from just the sound of his voice—of his footsteps! The man that filled her dreams and seized her fantasies. The man that, any other time, she would have been hoping and praying to see, even from a distance.

But now, no… Not now. The vast majority of her life she had spent begging the Goddesses to send him her way, but not today. Now, the only time she had erased him from her thoughts for a brief moment, had not even considered the possibility of his arrival, he decided to turn up. And for the first time in her life, Malon dreaded his visit.

_Link…_

"What is it?" Link asked with a boyish laugh, one hand behind his head. "You look like you've seen a ghost!"

No, not a ghost. Far more daunting.

"O…o-oh! Yes! I mean no! No, there's no ghosts." Malon sputtered out, shaking her head, false smile plastered on her face.

"Glad to hear it." Link replied, raising a concerned eyebrow. "Are you alright?"

"Fine!" Malon responded, too quickly. "You just startled me, is all."

"Oh." Link blinked in confusion, but smiled nonetheless. "Sorry 'bout that!" He laughed again in that adorably endearing manner of his. "Let me make that up to you." He reached into his tunic; his tongue poking out from the corner of his mouth as he dug through the plethora of items acquired on his travels, and retrieved a small speckled egg.

Link handed her the egg, smiling broadly, his eyes seeking her approval. Malon took the egg, her movements muddled. The entire situation was so surreal. Mere moments ago she had been accosted by this very man's shadow. And now he stood before her, laughing and offering gifts, completely oblivious.

"It's a pocket cucco!" Link explained, trying to rouse a reaction from Malon; who stared at the egg blankly. "They're supposed to come in all sorts of colors. And they're tiny enough to fit in the palm of you hand." Link spread open his hand as if to emphasize his point. "Cute, huh?"

"Uh… huh…" Malon replied, her mind still hazy. "Huh? Oh, yes. Thank you, Link." She added quickly, forcing another smile.

Link's eyebrows furrowed, regarding her strangely. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"I'm fine!" Malon replied, too defensive. "Really. It's just been so long since I've seen you last." she covered.

"Yeah, I guess so." Link said thoughtfully. "In fact, it feels like ages. Every time I stop by, I never catch more than a glimpse of you."

She couldn't believe it. All along she'd thought Link had no real interest in coming to see her, when really it had been her timid reluctance to confront him that had kept him afar. Her frustration flared up. Malon was suddenly very angry, though she couldn't say _who_ she was angry with. Not with Link, he'd done nothing wrong. "Oh, well, I've been very busy. Much to be done on a ranch!"

"Busy, huh?" Link gasped, suddenly apologetic. "I'm sorry, am I keeping you? I was just so glad to run into you, I completely forgot! Sorry, Mal."

_Mal… _A little nickname he had picked up. She hadn't heard him use it in so long. Malon felt so utterly _happy _just to hear him use it again. After all, a nickname spoke of affection. Even if their relationship did not go beyond friends, at least she was _someone_ to him.

"No! You're not keeping me!" Malon said, grabbing Link's arm as he turned to leave. "On the contrary, you just caught me daydreaming!"

Link turned back to face her, boyish grin gracing his apricot tinted lips. "About what?" he asked innocently.

_Your shadow…_ a bitter voice echoed in Malon's mind. Malon paid it no heed. "Honestly, I don't remember now." she lied, linking her arm in Link's as he led her to entrance; where Epona was waiting. "So what brings you to Lon-Lon Ranch?"

"Besides the cucco?" Link laughed nervously. "Those things really don't like me."

Malon couldn't help but recall Knil's hatred for cuccos. Maybe the birds sensed their connection?

"Link my boy!" Talon approached the two young Hylians. Despite it being late morning, it was still unusual for Talon to be awake at such an early hour. It seemed Link brought excitement to everyone. "Long time no see. Where have you been?"

"You know, the usual." Link replied good-naturedly. "Traveling, meeting new people, battling tyranny."

"Make any new _friends_?" Talon moved his eyebrows suggestively. Malon turned away, focusing on Epona. Why did her father have to as Link about possible love interests when she was around?

"Well… a few." Link said, scratching his head, not catching Talon's true meaning.

Such a pure intentioned man. Almost like a young boy trapped in an adult's body. Malon pat Epona fondly. The auburn pelted mare nuzzled against the farm girl's hands in recognition. "I missed you, girl." Malon murmured, noticing curiously that Epona wasn't wearing a saddle.

"So when are you going to settle down, start a family?" Talon prattled on. "You know, Malon's available."

"Father!" Malon whirled around, her face red as the potion of the same name.

"I… err… well… that is…" Link stuttered, blushing charmingly. "I don't think marriage is really an option for me at this time." he finally managed to choke out.

"Why not?" Talon insisted, determined to embarrass them both to death, or at least such was Malon's opinion. "You're in your prime! Link the Hero; Hyrule's most eligible bachelor! Not to mention the most highly sought!"

"Fa…ther…" Malon seethed through clenched teeth, her hands balled up into fists at her sides.

"Well… I… uh—Ingo!" Link said abruptly, spotting Ingo nearby and welcoming the distraction.

Link ran off to meet the ranch hand, while Malon lingered behind to serve her father a decent death-glare before taking hold of Epona's reins and heading towards Link.

"So how does it look?" Malon overheard as she and Epona approached.

"Not good." Ingo told Link, gesturing for him to follow. Ingo led Link and Malon to the barn, where he had set up his work bench. Atop it rested Epona's saddle, cracked and split beyond use. Malon led Epona to a horse stall.

"It can be repaired?" Link asked hopefully.

Ingo gave the boy a cynical look and grabbed an arrow that protruded from the saddle, pulling it out. As soon as he removed it, the saddle collapsed in on itself. Ingo faced Link, pointing to what once was a saddle, in reply.

"So…" Link said uncertainly, "is that going to cost extra?"

Ingo groaned, rolling his eyes. "Look, I don't know what you've been doing with that poor horse, but with how much work it would take to assemble these scraps back into a working saddle, you might as well get a new one!"

Link pouted, reeking charm. "But I've gotten used to _this_ saddle. Is there really no way?"

Ingo moved over to the wall—where various saddles of all shapes, sizes, and types hung—and picked one out. "Here." he said, walking back over and handing the saddle to the disillusioned hero. "This is the closest we have to your old one."

Link nodded, accepting the fact though not satisfied with it.

But Ingo was a hard-working man, and since his labor was his pride, he struck up a compromise. "Give it a chance." he said. "I'll do my best to salvage whatever I can of your old saddle. If in a few weeks you're still unhappy with this saddle, come back and pick up… whatever remains of that thing."

Link smiled admiringly. "Thanks. I really appreciate it!" He reached for the pouch hanging from the side of his belt and retrieved a handful of rupees.

"That's far too much for a plain saddle." Ingo said, taking only a few of the jewels offered to him. "And plus, half price for the hero."

"No, I insist!" Link said genially, placing the remaining rupees on the workbench. "Besides, I find more of those lying around than I know what to do with!"

Ingo nodded, accepting the payment graciously. "Well, if you'll excuse me, I have other work to attend to." He exited, muttering, "Unlike a certain _Talon_," under his breath.

Link stared at the door for a moment, and then laughed. "I see Ingo and Talon get along as wonderfully as ever."

"And my father still doesn't get that Ingo doesn't like him." Malon appended.

Link turned to Malon, his smile warm and calming. What was it about him that made her spirit sing? Just being this close to him to have him looking at her, _only_ at her, was enough to make Malon feel whole. She stepped closer to him. Link was the purpose in an otherwise menial and routine existence. Link was hope. Link was happiness. Link was laughter. Link… was love.

"Have you ever _met_ Princess Zelda?" Malon's heart shattered in her chest.

"N-no." She took a step back. Link didn't seem to notice and walked into the horse stall to fasten the new saddle on Epona. "Why do you ask?"

Link shrugged as he worked, not looking back at her. "No reason in particular. I just… felt like telling someone."

_No… oh Goddesses, please no! If it isn't enough that my love is not requited; now he's going to confess his undying love for another, to me?! _ Malon leaned against the workbench, her hands out behind her; resting on the dusty wood. "Telling someone about what?" she barely dared to ask.

"I'm headed for the castle after this." he said simply. "I haven't been there in a while and I'm a bit nervous!" His finger caught on one of the saddles buckles. Link made a short, pained sound, but then laughed it off. "You think I'd be used to this sort of thing by now." He was referring to saddling horses, but Malon misunderstood.

"Of course, you're the honored Hero of Hyrule." Malon gazed down at her shoes; the plain, brown, worn shoes of a working peasant. "What do you have to be nervous about?"

"I'm not entirely sure." he admitted, tightening the stirrups. "But I think a part of the reason is Princess Zelda." He was silent for a second, as if contemplating this fact. "Actually, I think she's the main reason."

"What do you mean?" Malon didn't notice how soft her voice had become. Link strained to hear, too polite to complain. "I'm sure she adores you."

"Thanks, but I don't know about that." Link said with a boyish giggle. "I mean, Zelda's always been very gracious with me. I know I can tell her just about anything and she'd understand. She seems to understand _everything_." Link's hands began to work more slowly on the saddle, impeded by his musings. "But while that can be reassuring, it can also be extremely intimidating." His voice took on a more wistful tone, like one remembering a person held very dear. "Sometimes I feel like she can read my mind—which is ridiculous! I know! And it's not like I have anything to hide. But having her stare at you with those wise and lovely eyes, stare _into_ you actually, it can be… unnerving."

_Why should it be? _Malon barely held back from asking aloud, fearing her voice may break. _Unless you're afraid she'll find what you're hiding, even from yourself. Your true feelings for her…_ Malon didn't need to ask anyway, she knew. Just by how distant he became when he thought of her, it was clear. A tingling in Malon's eyes warned of coming tears. Malon fought against them, refused to let on how she truly felt. It would only complicate matters, perhaps even scare Link away. That was the last thing she wanted.

"But why am I boring you with all this?" Link said, brightening as he finished with the saddle. He turned to face her with his usual, amiable grin. Malon looked away.

She cleared her throat, keeping her face out of his view, and pretended to inspect the shreds of Link's old saddle. "Well, I have a lot of work to do. Nice seeing you again."

"You too!" Link replied sincerely, trying to look at Malon as he spoke. Malon avoided his gaze, feigning busy at work. After a while of awkward attempts, Link surrendered with a shrug. "Thanks for everything, Mal. I'll see you soon, okay?"

"Mhm." was all that Malon said, not trusting her voice to hold out.

"Well… okay then." Link said, still baffled by her behavior. "Take care!" He opened the barn door and then walked back to Epona; mounting her. With a final goodbye, Link rode out of the barn, out of the ranch, leaving Malon alone.

At first she didn't move. Malon just stood there, eyes fixed on the last spot she had moved them to in trying to avoid Link. Then, all at once, her eyes welled with tears.

_He didn't come here for me. _Malon turned and ran out of the barn, into her house, straight into her room, and slammed the door behind her. _He came to clean himself up… for her._

Malon sat down on her bed, letting the pain in her chest spread through her, consume her. The tears flowed heavily then. Malon did nothing to stop them; oblivious to the red orbs that hid in the shadows of he room, ready to strike.

* * *

Wow... my characterization of Link was pretty bad there. And that ADD moment he had there... 

Link needs Riddalin, Knil needs Prozac, and Malon needs intensive therapy. There, that solves everyone's problems! Too bad the Hyrule pharmaceutical industry only carries potions. Damn.

Anyway, review replies! Thank you for forgiving all the dreaded typos in my last chapter! That's what I get for updating at 2 am.

**Mr. Tino: **You like Phantom too! Hurray! It's rare to meet someone who obsesses over both Phantom and Zelda! But they're really not so different! Well... actually they are. But that's what makes them AMAZING! I'm so glad you liked my story! Sorry to keep you waiting! The net chapter will be out quicker, promise!

**Iguana nandofigueroa: **So I shall... thanks for the review!

**Rose Witch: **Ah, you liked the milk situation? Phew... I was worried some people might be confused. Sorry this update wasn't very soon. I'll be better next chapter!

**little-chibi-girl: **Don't worry about the weirdness! You should've seen me at Halloween! (Me: Get away from my candy you rotten freeloading brats! Mine... all mine... my precious...)

**Meneil: **Yes! It was Link! You win a virtual Knil plushie! (Hands you plushie) Squeeze him, he talks! (Knil Plushie: Angst. Angst. Angst) Aww... isn't he depressingly adorable?

**shadowsasuke: **(Blinks) Wow, I a getting plenty of reviews. That's amazing! I must have done something really good to deserve this; question is, what? And of course I'll remember you! I love my reviewers! Plus, you have a really cool penname. That always helps.

**Topaze Fire: **Silly angsty Knil, how he tickles me so! Wait, Knil? Without chaos? Oh no, I'm sure he'll have to make up for that! And poor Malon. She just can't seem to get a break. If it isn't Knil tormenting her, it's Link unwittingly crushing her feelings. I'm not quite satisfied with how Link turned out in this chapter. Hopefully he'll be better next time! And it's funny that you mentioned not being able to review as quickly, when I'm taking longer to update too! XD

**Zequistis Free Spirit: **Sorry to keep you waiting! Poor Knil. There's really no place for a sexy, angsty shadow like him! Thanks so much for your review! When I read "does a fan-girl squeal" I squealed too. My brother ran in to the room, thinking I'd hurt myself. (Sigh) Why must fangirls be so misunderstood?

**Spiritual Stone: **Haha. Knil likes the word bastard too. (Knil: It's bastard-riffic!) You really like the second chapter best? You know, I like that chapter too. It's just so much creepier than the others. Not sure why. Ah well, sorry for the slow update! Won't happen again!

**adrian-air-fire: **(Knil: Nice? You think I'm _nice_?) Put down the soapy water Knil! He's such a drama queen.

**The Legend of Soul Emblem:** No... she doesn't get the hint hint. Maybe Malon should have been born the blonde and Zelda the brunette. Sorry about the typos. I re-read my chapter the next day and nearly had an attack, typo-hell! Malon is nice, isn't she? I feel so bad torturing her like this. Even if she is fictional. It's still pretty mean. Knil wasn't as mean as usual, though I suspect it was mostly out of apathy. (Knil: Nice? She thinks I'm _nice_?) Not again, settle down Knil!


	7. Left Me With Insatiable Desire

Yeah, this took a while too, didn't it? Sorry for the delay! You see, I live with my older brother (who is also a huge gaming nerd) so the two of us HAD to get the Wii at launch. And as a direct result, my life outside of Twilight Princess has ceased to exist.

Anyway, thank you all for your reviews and wonderful comments. You were very helpful. Now, there ARE some adult situations in the following chapter so **be warned.** I tried not to make it anything to graphic, but what happens is vital to Knil's character.

Okay, so, I don't think it's enough to rate it "M", is it? Hmm. Maybe I should change it anyway, to be safe.

I adore Midna. Best sidekick character EVER.

* * *

**Left Me With Insatiable Desire**

It hurt. Even as she sobbed raggedly, she felt as if she couldn't breathe. Her throat was constricted, aching. Her chest tightened and burned. Every heartbeat throbbed painfully. Malon wondered, briefly, if her heat would give out. Would it hurt? Or maybe the hurt would cease; slowing as her heart did.

Why? Why did everything have to be this way? Disappointing, just out of her reach. Why couldn't she be more than she was?

It was unfair! Hadn't it been all thanks to her? _She_ saved Epona, whom without; Link could have never become a hero. He wouldn't have risen to honor. The Princess would never have noticed him. Malon had loved him _before_ he was a hero, back when he was just a strange little boy garbed in green.

Why couldn't he love her? What had she ever done wrong? Moreover, what else could she have done? Why couldn't he just _love_ her?!

She closed her eyes, shutting away the harshness of reality; indulging herself, instead, in fantasy. She imagined Link outside, below her room. He'd suddenly realize why she had been acting so strangely and rush back to the ranch. He'd race up to her room, fling open the door, and find her there. Then, tenderly, he'd come to her side and hold her, cradle her in his arms. Even if he didn't love her, he would still comfort her, hold her until the pain passed.

So lost was Malon in her dream, that she actually began to feel a cool hand against her heated face. Another hand followed, moving under her chin, tilting her face up.

Malon opened her eyes.

It wasn't a dream, nor a fantasy. But neither was it Link.

_Knil…_

She stared up at him numbly, not caring what torment he had in store for her now. What more could he possibly do to her? What damage could he possibly inflict that hadn't already been done? She felt no fear. She felt nothing, really; just the pain of unrequited affection and a creeping numbness.

But Knil did not appear to be in the mood for mental torture. His expression was unreadable, bordering blank. Yet his eyes shone, red and turbulent. He was considering something as he held up her chin, staring into her face. _He's deciding…_ Malon thought, but she did not really care what. Her attention was only on her internal anguish.

Slowly, Knil placed a deft finger onto Malon's cheek, barely meeting the delicate skin, and withdrew with a tear poised upon his fingertip. He gazed at the clear bead of liquid, fascinated, and then brought it to his lips. The shadow stilled, his hands falling to his sides idly in surprise.

Malon bowed her head, unconcerned with his puzzling actions. She sniffled and continued to cry, undisturbed by his presence.

But Knil was instantly beside her, one hand cupping her face, pulling it closer to him. Then, curiously, his tongue flicked out and tasted her cheek. He drew back, running his tongue over his lips, savoring the salty taste, before leaning forward and repeating the gesture.

Malon froze, perplexed by his actions. Her tears began to dwindle, but Knil lapped up every last one, even stopping to nip at her eyelids, trying to incite more tears.

The tears stopped. Malon ceased crying. The burning pain had diminished into a dull ache in her chest. She was so confused. Her mind felt lost in a dry fog, blanketing her reason to the point that she hardly understood what was happening. Through the haze she knew one thing for certain; Knil was with her now. He wouldn't leave, not yet.

Knil gripped Malon's wrists abruptly, pinning them in her lap. Malon looked up at him in surprise, trying to construe his intentions. Knil's expression remained blank as he craned himself forward and lowered his head, pressing his face against the softness of Malon's throat, and tentatively nibbled at the sensitive skin. Malon gasped in response, sending a thrill through his system. He could make her respond to him… the surge of power was intoxicating.

Shifting his grip carefully so that one hand held both of her wrists, Knil continued his explorations down the side of Malon's neck; biting at the supple flesh, smiling against her skin when she squeaked in short-lived pain. His free hand traveled to the base of her throat, listlessly tracing the delicate contours of her collarbone.

Everything about her was so fragile. He could easily reach up to crush her throat, or wrap his fingers around her collarbone and rip it out with minimum effort. Even her tiny wrists, which lay so cooperatively in his grasp, could be snapped in two without difficulty.

And yet he felt that if she touched him now, if she reached out and took control of this little game of discovery, he would be at her mercy.

He would not allow it.

Unexpectedly his hands were at Malon's shoulders, and he pushed her down onto the bed, securing her beneath him. He was in control; he would maintain that control. Knil knew he had to make his authority absolutely clear, lest Malon learn of her own power.

He looked down at the farm girl he held beneath him. She stared back at him with frightened eyes. He didn't quite understand what she had to be afraid of. He wasn't hurting her yet, and to be honest, he really had no intention of harming her at the moment. No, he only had his own curiosity to sate.

Her lips trembled. Knil smirked and dipped his head, capturing her bottom lip between his teeth. Malon shuddered beneath him. Knil released his hold her lip, moving to claim her earlobe.

So much. There was so much. Every part of her was different, unique, but everywhere she was so unbelievably _soft_. And there was so much about her, so much _to_ her; he could spend eternity exploring and never know all of her. It almost overwhelmed him. And yet he couldn't get enough.

Roughly he bit, tasted, took in her scent, listened to her gasps and small cries. He began trailing down her neck, her chest, tugging at her scarf to access lower areas.

The scarf impeded his entry. The blouse delayed him further. Her clothes in general had become a hindrance and an intolerable annoyance. Knil cursed in aggravation.

Malon looked down at him in concern. During it all she had lost herself, coming to her senses only at the sound of his voice. What had upset him? "Knil…?" she chirped gently.

Hearing her say his name—Gods, merely the fact that he _had_ a name—awakened feelings the like of which Knil had never known. She had called to him—by name—with concern, but something else had lined her words. He didn't recognize it, it was foreign and unknown to the shadow, and yet his instincts told him that it was _need_. He didn't know _what_ she needed, or why she would want it from him, but he sensed that it was something deep and primal; a need of a woman, for a man.

At that moment, even if only for that moment, she thought him a man.

At that moment, even if only for that moment, he felt himself as a man.

He had never felt anything like it. It was all he had ever wanted; humanity. Not to be the mere _shadow_ of a man, but his own person, unbound to any other.

But… he _did_ feel bound. Oddly, he felt himself strongly tied to the girl he held beneath him, as if his humanity depended on her. This girl—this woman! In a brief, insane moment, Knil even believed that if he was wrenched away from her; he would lose his solidity and dissolve. And not just disappear to another location, like he so often did. No, for a second he _actually believed_ that he would cease to exist.

And the thought terrified him.

Scanning over the scarf; that hated piece of clothing that had distracted him long enough for such doubts and fears to sink in, his eyes caught on the brooch. That strange, ugly brooch that Malon seemed to adore so much. Knil _loathed_ that brooch, not only because it currently held that damned scarf together, but because he knew how vital it was to his ultimate goal.

But now wasn't the time for that. Aggressively, Knil clasped the brooch and tore it from the cloth, throwing it to the ground. The scarf fell open, leaving only Malon's blouse, the low-cut fabric exposing the tops of her breasts.

Malon cried out in surprise. She couldn't fool herself any longer. His intentions were obvious. She was naturally afraid, not only because it was Knil—though that didn't help matters any—but because she was virginal, untouched. In Malon's reality, intimacy before marriage was sinful! She wouldn't even dream it!

And all thoughts of marriage had involved only Link, her charming prince.

But that was impossible, Malon realized with a sudden clarity. Link did not love her and it was unlikely that he ever would. For all she knew, Link had many lovers, in many places. He was not a bad man but, as Knil had said, he was only a man.

So then why should she mourn losing his heart to another, when in all likelihood Link had many women to turn to when the Princess did not reciprocate his feelings? In fact, if Malon continued as she was, it was unlikely that she'd ever wed anyone. She would never know love, not on any level. Not even one as garish as this.

Not unless she let it go.

Malon stared up at Knil, his resemblance to Link striking her. In a way, he _was_ Link. A part of him at least. As Malon thought of it, Knil's words rung in her mind.

"_Forget your concerns and reservations. Throw them into the fire and let them burn."_

She could not ignore the heat that had begun to build in her lower belly, or the satisfaction of watching him scowl in irritation as he struggled with her blouse. He wanted this, wanted _her_. And it felt good to be wanted. Even if for all the wrong reasons, Knil was looking at her; noticing her. She was the center of his attentions, his priority.

So she took her spiritual beliefs and her moral values and threw them to the wind, let them be caught in the fire he was stoking within her, let them catch and _burn_.

The cold air crackled on her skin as Knil finally succeeded in tugging of her blouse and tossed it aside. Strange, the room hadn't seemed chilly before.

Knil stared down at Malon, her upper half now fully exposed. He could have never predicted what she looked like under her blouse. He had never imagined anything so perfectly rounded and soft. Goddesses, she was soft _everywhere_! He cupped one breast inquisitively; applying gradual pressure until Malon gave a moan, which she tried to muffle. Knil smirked at her attempt at modesty, finding it absurd given their situation. He was surprised, however, when Malon returned to him with a feeble smile; a wary invitation.

His surprise was brief, but long enough for Malon to catch it flicker across his face. He hadn't expected her to comply. But Malon did not drop her smile, however weak it may be, because she knew he wanted this. Because _she_ wanted this.

Within her, the fire continued to grow; flaring up when Knil resumed nipping at her skin and caught the peak of a breast in his mouth. Malon drew in a sharp breath, but the gasp melted into a throaty moan.

Her reactions only served to heighten Knil's excitement, maddening him. Instinctively he grabbed her hips, his hold on her crushing, and bit down into her delicate neck with full strength.

Malon cried out in pain, remembering her own hands and pulling at his hair, trying to move him. But Knil would not let up, sinking his teeth into her soft flesh until he felt unfamiliar warmth flow through his lips. Knil drew back, a metallic taste in his mouth. His interest peaked; Knil brought a finger to his lips, staring at the crimson liquid that dripped from his fingertip.

_Blood._

As if to prevent wasting the precious fluid, Knil pressed his lips against Malon's neck and suckled at the scarlet trickle. Even such a gentle motion became rough through him. He was merciless, taking every drop for himself; somehow believing, or wanting to believe, that drinking of her would make him produce his own blood. He wanted to bleed, to have warmth flowing through him always, as it did for her. He wanted to sustain himself, not live through his fairer half.

Malon stared up at the thatched ceiling, remembering how calmly she had looked up at it that morning, never suspecting she would see it as she did now. Absentmindedly she wondered why, even pressed against her as he was, Knil was always so cool to the touch…

_Cool to the touch?_ Malon looked back at Knil and found him bare. Where had his tunic gone? He hadn't stopped to remove it. Had it vanished into black smoke?

Malon did not question the inconsistency for long. She was distracted by the broadness of his chest, the build of his muscles; perfect, just like Link. Shyly, she dared look no lower and returned her vision to the ceiling, blushing profusely.

But Knil held no such reservations. Hurriedly his hands slid down her waist, over the curve of her hips, and encountered another obstacle. Knil clicked his tongue in irritation but wasted to time. Gripping the waistband, Knil ripped away the violet skirt.

Malon voiced a complaint, planting her hands on Knil's chest, and pushed against him. Knil cocked an eyebrow, swatting her hands away as if they were only annoying flies, and turned to the final barrier between them; her undergarments.

Fear suddenly washed over Malon, her stomach lurching and her face growing hot. She couldn't stop him!

"Please!" She cried, tiny droplets of tears slipping out of the corner of her eyes.

Knil groaned in exasperation. What did she want now? Whatever she had to say, couldn't it wait five damn minutes?

"Please…" she reiterated.

Her voice was small and scared. In a rare moment of sympathy, Knil halted his advancement and waited.

Everyone always left Malon. Her mother died. Link was always setting off on a distant adventure, leaving her with no hint of returning again. Even her father, changed as he was since her mother's death, had left her; opting for the world of dreams. And now, as contrary as it seemed, nothing scared Malon more than the thought of Knil leaving her too. Even after all he had put her through, how he had mercilessly taunted her, Malon wanted him near. She wanted to have someone close, someone who wouldn't leave. Someone who wanted her as crucially as she wanted them, even if for completely different reasons. "Will you still be here after?"

Knil blinked, titling his head in fascination. He could sense the need within her growing with every movement of him over her, and still she refused to release herself. Why did people deny themselves what they wanted most? Shadows were not like that at all. If they wanted something, and it was in their power to take it, they engulfed it.

He leaned forward; hissing at the sensation of her chest pressed against his, and pressed his lips to her ears as he whispered his reply in a silken voice, "You will never be rid of me."

Malon threw her arms around his strong neck, keeping him close as she surrendered herself to her desires.

The final obstruction between them removed, Knil shifted his weight above her; gripping her hips roughly and positioning himself for more control.

He was savage as he intruded into her, but Malon held him gingerly nonetheless.

Afterwards, he did not lie beside her. He sat up, black smoke surrounding him and congealing into his soot-colored tunic. And that was all. He just sat there, staring down at Malon as she trembled from the force of her release.

He watched her silently, and though Malon ached to have him hold her, she said nothing. As the silence stretched and time passed around them, Malon calmed and fell asleep. Knil watched her a while longer, still awed by her reaction to him.

She had cried out when he had first entered her, he remembered it clearly. She was capable of feeling much pain… of so much passion…

Knil frowned enviously, tightening his hands into fists. No, not real fists. False fists. False hands. Everything about him was a farce. The pseudo-body he possessed could feel no intense pain. He only felt a dull sting, no matter how serious the injury.

True being incapable of real pain may have been convenient, but neither was he capable of _passion_. All his pleasure, like his pain, was also muted. Yes, he had physically enjoyed their tussle. But it had all been nothing more than a warm pleasant feeling. He was not consumed by his desire as she was. He did not flush or writhe with her touches, as she did under his.

Honey did not taste as sweet, no amount of milled milk would ever inebriate him, and he would never know the true hurt of an injury; nor the comfort of being tended to afterwards.

And yet his emotions were all too real. His jealousy, his anger, his frustration; it was all there! And it ate at him _mercilessly_.

It wasn't _fair_!

Malon murmured unintelligibly in her sleep. Before he could stop it, the corner of his mouth twitched upwards. He scowled it away immediately.

Outside it began to darken. Knil stood to leave, but a small hand reached out and took hold of his shirt. Knil turned to see Malon, who stared at him with sleepy eyes. She was only half awake, if that.

"Stay…?" she said softly, almost inaudibly.

Knil smirked and took hold of her hand, tucking it under her pillow. Malon's half-lidded eyes unfocused, as they slid shut and she fell back to sleep.

Knil resisted the sudden urge to wake her; to snatch her up by the hair and shake her, yell at her, release his frustration on the stupid girl who took for granted what he most desired. Instead he turned away and slipped out the window, into the shadows of nightfall.

That night, Malon dreamt only of Link. But he was changed; his skin a swarthy grey, his eyes red, his sun golden hair now a moonlit silver. Though his welcoming smile remained.

And he loved her.

* * *

(sniffles) Aww. Poor, poor Malon. So conflicted. And how is she going to feel about this in the morning? Awkward!

Knil is awfully selfish, isn't he? Meh, I love him anyway.

Review Replies!

**Bach Suite No. 2 in D minor: **Thank you so much! I really appreciate it. I like your penname too! Although I've always been more partial to Mozart myself...

**Zequistis Free Spirit: **Late? No way! It's never too late for reviews! I live on reviews! Seriously, I can't stop playing Twilight Princess so I can't get off my computer. Help me. Yes, Knil does seem pretty obsessed. Although, more than anything, I thin he's just obsessed wit humanity in general. You know, want what you can't have. And Malon! Naughty thoughts! Though things have been sucking for her thus far. Hopefully they'll get better...

**The Legend of Soul Emblem: **Naughty Malon with her naughty thoughts! ... and actions now too I guess. Yeah, Knil does seem to obsess over what he can't have for himself. Though I don't think a quick taste of Malon's tears is going to be enough to satisfy him. Oh Knil! What will you do next?

**Mr. Tino: **Why didn't Malon tell Link? A few reasons. For one, Knil threatened her so she can't tell anyone. Two, she's confused, poor dear. She doesn't know what she wants. And three, I'm not so sure she wants Knil to get caught. I think she just wants him to stop tormenting her. Never stop writing? Oh wow. Thank you so much! I'm so glad you like it!

**TK Shuffle: **AHAHAHAHAHA! Cannabalism. Good times... good times... Your review made me laugh pretty hard there. It just seemed so random. Plus I got this mental image of Knil in a grass skirt, wielding a spear, and cooking Malon in a pot. Eep! You really like my fic? Thank you so much! It just makes my day to know that people like my writing.

**inthearmynow: **Thanks for the compliment! Yes, Knil is multi-talented like that. He can be annoying, scary, and hilarious all at once. No wonder Malon's so confused! And all this time I thought she was just stupid. (Malon: Hey!) Poor, poor confused Malon.

**adrian-air-fire: **Haha, drama King. But Knil could be a drama queen. He's pretty enough. (fangirl moment) I would go tell KNil you called him nice, but he's kinda moody right now. I don't want to risk it...

**Spiritual Stone: **Yay! (Hugs back) Yep, sometimes you have to torture your characters. It's the only way to make them human. You know, it seems like Knil didn't really have any torture planned out for Malon. I think he was just curious. And pushy, but that's just his personality. Wow, Malon and Knil's morning conversation is going to be aaaaawkward.

**tiggermoogle: **Thank you so much! It just makes my day when someone liked my writing! Hee... you said nifty. I like that word. It's... well... nifty. And right now it's about 1:30 am, so I know what you mean about lacking vocabulary! Yes, all the Zelda characters need medication it seems. Especially Tingle, or maybe he needs less medication...

**Hydro-Wolf: **Hi! Welcome to my story! I'm so glad you like it! Thank you so much for reviewing! Oh, and Link wants to say something. (Link: Why would you do this to me?! Attack me? The pain is excrutiating! What did I do? I didn't mean to hurt Malon! I didn't even realize I did it!) (Knil: Hey, I hurt Malon on purpose all the time and no one does anything to me. Except call me sexy.) (Link: ...life sucks ducks.)

**Topaze Fire: **Is it just me, or does Knil seem to get more emo with each chapter? He really has to stop listening to Simple Plan. Yeah. maybe Link was a little too happy last chapter. I was tyring to show the contrast between him and Knil, maybe I overdid it. But not to worry, Link and Knil have yet to confront each other. Ooh... what's Link going to ay when he finds out what Knil just did to Malon? I don't think Knil gets what a big deal it is... (Knil: So what if I don't? And what's Zoloft? Is it like cheese?) ...yes, Knil, it's like cheese... sigh...

**myeerah: **(Dances) Hurray! Thank you!

**little-chibi-girl: **1) Thank you! Good to know he wasn't as bad as I thought... I was really worried.  
2) Hey... it is kinda Star Wars-y! I didn't even think about that! XD  
3) Thank you for the example. It actually helped me with the ending of the chapter, so I didn't actually have to write "it happening"  
It's still more graphic than those examples though, simply because I had to show how Knil handled the situation and how childishly selfish and inconsiderate he could be about it, among other things. But anyway, thanks again for your help! Plus, it was a good Star Wars fic to read too!


	8. I Can't Escape Your Trance

Wow. It's been FOREVER hasn't it?

I'm so sorry my beloved readers! This is unforgivable! But believe me when I tell you, I felt terrible the whole time I was not updating!

It's just... everything hit me at once! I finished Twilight Princess, which is a fantastic game by the way, and yet I felt so empty afterwards. Why? Because while Twilight Princess is a beautiful game with a wonderful story, it seems to forget who the main characters are!

Midna is perhaps the most well-developed character in a Zelda game to date. And while this is wonderful, the other characters seem to suffer for it. I understand Link being a blank slate, since we're supposed to play as him, but Zelda and even Ganondorf's roles feel so... watered down. It feels as if there could have been so much MORE to their characters, but instead they were just thrown in.

And to make things worse, the second season finale of Avatar: The Last Airbender.

I know, I know. That show carries the double stigma of being both an American anime AND a Nickelodeon show. Believe me, I had my doubts at first too. But now I'm amazed that Nickelodeon even allows this show to air. It's perhaps one of the single best animated series' I have seen in my entire LIFE (and that's saying a lot. I watch lots of cartoons.)

And the season finale was SHOCKING! It shattered all the "bad guy with redeemable qualities automatically joins the good guys" cliches! I'm telling you, I am in LOVE with Zuko now.

But why am I boring you with all this? I'll bother you about Zuko next chapter. Right now you just want the chappie! Well, here it is!

* * *

**  
**

**I Can't Escape Your Trance**

She didn't doubt it. Not for a moment. Somehow she just knew. It hadn't been a dream.

How did she know? Maybe it was the fact that it hadn't been Link. Maybe because she had allowed it instead of struggling against him. Maybe it was the soreness she felt when she stepped out of bed. Maybe it was the thickness which seemed to linger in the air, telling of how recently his black smoke had billowed there.

Or maybe it was her first thought when she woke; she wanted to see Knil.

Malon had never looked forward to his presence. If anything, she had feared it. Now, her every instinct seemed to be off balance, telling her to go to the man—the _thing_—that she so dreaded. She had to know why he was here, why he was doing this to her! She couldn't accept his sarcasm or his clever dodges to her questions. She needed to know.

She went through her morning ritual; picked out clean clothes, bathed—though she couldn't seem to scrub the feeling of _him_ off her skin, dressed, brushed her hair until it was manageable, and prepared breakfast for herself and Mr. Ingo. Not once did Knil disturb her.

She set off to work; cleaning the horse stalls and cucco pens, feeding the animals, milking the cows, collecting eggs, taking the horses out for training, fetching water, arranging hay, and other such daily tasks. Still no sign of Knil.

He was strangely absent the entire day. Malon went about her work, and completed it all without a hitch. Not a single inexplicable accident. Not one sinister snicker in her head. It was as if he had vanished, ceased to be.

The sun was setting when Malon took the horses back inside. An older pinto, its pelt a beautiful speckling of brown and white, named Equus; gave Malon some difficulty. It was strange. Equus had always been one of the more intelligent horses, and his older age made him calmer than the adolescent stallions. Soothingly, Malon hummed to the beast. He seemed to relax at first, but as she brought him into the stable, he panicked. The pinto bolted, rearing up onto its hind legs, casting Malon back onto the floor, before ramming itself repeatedly against the stable door.

Its wild, insane behavior alarmed the other horses, which began to neigh and pace fretfully in their stalls. Equus, standing tall, brought his hooves down hard upon the dirt floor, narrowly missing Malon's face.

Malon rolled away, distancing herself. The maddened Equus kicked at the door, which fell open with a dry crack, and fled out into the field. Never had an animal in her care gone mad like this! Why now?

Did it… did the creature sense something different in her? Did it feel her tainted, inwardly sullied by darkness? If the Shadow did not cry, did not bleed, then how could he love? The fact was, he probably couldn't. There had been no love about it. He had intruded upon her, left his lingering black smoke living within her. Was she now an accomplice to evil, then? Was she, herself, a refuge to it?

She was suddenly aware that she was standing. Someone had hoisted her to her feet. She hadn't noticed them do it, as lost amidst her own horrific thoughts as she had been. But she felt his arms around her waist, and his roguish chuckle sounded in her ear.

"Shadows are never appreciated by the likes of dumb beasts." He said softly, plainly. "They see a shade skitter across and they panic, never knowing that it'd be so much safer just to…" he nibbled at her ear, she could feel his sadistic grin against her skin, "give them what they want."

"And what _do_ you want?!" Malon found herself crying out as she pushed herself out of his arms. He did not try to detain her, but released her willingly.

"You wouldn't give it to me if I asked." He answered simply.

Malon whirled around to face him. He was just as she remembered him, his smirk as mischievous and uncaring as it had ever been. He was completely unchanged, unaffected. Last night's events did not trouble him.

Malon wished she could be so lucky.

"How would you know?" Malon said, her voice sounding broken and incensed, when really she was just confused. She didn't feel angry. Not really. "What wouldn't I give you?" she continued, trying to gain control over her own voice. "What haven't I already given you? I have nothing _left_!" She couldn't prevent herself from screaming the last word.

Knil said nothing, but walked over to her slowly. His expression remained unbothered, but for a moment Malon feared he would strike her.

He did not. Instead he took her hand and pulled her towards the door, or at least where the stable door _used_ to be.

The sun had all but set. Darkness prevailed over the light. Knil walked out into the twilight, pulling Malon behind him urgently.

The field in the center of the horse track. Of all places, _that's_ where he took her. Malon bit her bottom lip nervously. Whenever they met up here, he did terrible things to her. Whether it was frightening her witless, degrading her with his boot on her face, or even physically hurting her like when he had twisted her arm; the field and Knil together brought nothing but dreadful memories to Malon. What horrible method of torture and dominance did he have planned now?

Through her dread, however, Malon did manage to notice his strange demeanor. He was in an excitable mood, like a child eager to show off an accomplishment.

He stopped in the center of the field, where he has set up a small well of stones; filled with twigs. There he released her hand and walked over to the opposite side of the stones, staring at Malon expectantly. Malon looked down at the stones and sticks, then up at Knil in puzzlement. What did he want her to do?

"_Well_?" He said impatiently. What? Did he want her opinion?

"It's…" Malon failed about in her mind, searching for a word, "…lovely." She managed finally.

Knil rolled his eyes and scoffed, annoyed by her ignorance. "Useless girl. Fetch the drinks!" he snapped, gesturing behind him. "I'll start the fire…" He trailed off as Malon obeyed and passed by him, headed for the windmill.

As she left, she briefly turned back to catch a glimpse of Knil, wondering what he was up to now. His arms were crossed and his head hung, lips pursed in… a pout? Malon didn't have time to double check, as she turned back around and continued on with the task he had sent her on.

She gathered as many bottles as her arms could hold, thoughts still lingering on his curious expression. Had Knil really been pouting? Like a disappointed _child_? Or had it been a trick of the shadows cast by the dimmed light?

It had to be her imagination. What reason did Knil have to look disappointed for?

Malon exited the windmill with some difficulty, arms incapacitated by the many bottles of milled milk. The sun had fully set in the small time she had been inside. Now the night was bathed in complete darkness, save a patch of light coming from the center of the field. A fire…

So the circle of stones had been an encasement for a fire, the twigs had been kindling. But what would Knil want a campfire for? He didn't intend to _burn_ her, did he?

Malon shook away the thought, fearing he may possess some strange mind-reading ability and not wanting to give him any ideas.

Knil was seated by the fire, both knees drawn up against his chest, his arms wrapped around his legs tightly. By his posture, he seemed almost like a little boy, hugging himself. Yet his eyes were anything but innocent, staring intently into the flames, burning and consuming as they did, neither mercy nor doubt to be found.

Malon took a seat across from him, placing the bottles of milled milk to the side. Knil said nothing, did not move. He didn't even seem to notice she was there. How curious…

"I thought shadows did not care for the light." Malon ventured softly, with trepidation.

Knil's red eyes seemed to glow brighter, as if stealing light from the fire itself, his gaze hardening. "Full light, daylight, yes." he began in a hushed, almost revered voice. "Strong light, open light such as that, destroys shadows." He reached out a hand, passing it through the flame. His flesh did not burn. "But fire… candlelight… half-lights, false lights…" he ran his fingers through the flame gently, slowly, almost like… a lover's caress? "They do not obliterate; they cast shadows, they birth them."

Malon's eyes widened as she took in the meaning of his words. Dim light was actually preferable for shadow than no light at all. Slight, weak light was like fodder for the darkness. Birthing shadows… almost like…

"A mother…" Malon murmured to herself, not realizing she had spoken aloud.

"What?" Knil's eyes were upon her now, she knew before she looked. She could feel his gaze boring into her; unyielding and brutally hot.

"Nothing." Malon looked down at her hands, folded in her lap.

Strangely, Knil accepted this and pressed her no further. He was behaving so oddly. Perhaps, whatever had transpired between them the passed night, had meant _something_ to him?

Silence, awkward and stifling, came over them. Malon popped open a bottle of milled milk, thinking it might stir the mischief in Knil. But if Knil took any notice of her actions, he did not show it. He just stared into the fire, one hand among the flames, stroking it with a gentility Malon had not thought him capable of. The quiet discomfited Malon, but she dared not break it.

It seemed an eternity passed before he finally spoke. "To burn, but never be consumed… such terrible wonders..." he did not explain his cryptic words, only added to them. "Flame is so thrilling, so mesmerizing. So beautiful, but why? If all it seeks to do is… _destroy_." He lifted a hand from the flames, something dark and indiscernible trapped in his crushing grasp. "It enchants and it beckons, bids the curious watcher come closer, it deceives with its beauty… it's true, destructive nature hidden."

His voice seemed to melt away into a low rumble; Malon could feel it reverberating in her lower belly. She covered the area with a trembling hand, trying in vain to still herself, her eyes still fixated on the small thing held in his grasp.

"And yet… that which brings ruin in the light…" Slowly, Knil lowered his hand, his fingers spreading like a blooming flower. "…breathes life into the darkness." In the center of his palm sat a shadow. More accurately, a silhouette of a girl. Dark and flickering with the movement of the flame, the little shadow dancer stood and began to twirl elegantly.

Malon's eyes lit up, as bright as the stars which shone above them. Never had she seen anything so miraculous, so graceful, so… impossible and breathtakingly beautiful.

The little shadow dancer ceased spinning and danced up Knil's hand, along his arm, onto his shoulder. Knil stretched out his opposite arm towards Malon, allowing for the little shadow dancer to move over his shoulders, down his other arm, right before Malon.

Malon gasped, barely noticing she had been holding her breath. The little shadow dancer continued her dance; twirling, spinning, pirouetting.

"Shameful." Knil said curtly, the corners of his lips pulling down into a frown. "Can't even keep in rhythm. Take her." he said, offering the little shadow dancer up to Malon dully. "She bores me."

Malon looked up at Knil in apprehension. Wasn't this some sort of shadow trick of his? If she took the little dancer into her hands, wouldn't she cease to be? It seemed evil to pull anything so beautiful out of existence!

Tired with waiting, Knil's free hand snatched up Malon's wrists; flipping her hands over so that her palms faced upward. Unceremoniously, Knil dumped the little shadow dancer into her hands. Malon cupped her hands sadly, expecting the little shadow dancer to dissolve into black smoke in an instant.

But the little shadow dancer did not dissolve. She sat in Malon's hands contentedly, head titled to the side as if curiously inspecting her.

"And now she stops. Idle little dolt!" Knil said, re-seating himself cross-legged and leaning forward towards Malon.

"Maybe she needs music." Malon said sheepishly.

"Or maybe she's an idle little dolt." Knil leaned back, shrugging his shoulders in disinterest.

Malon's brow furrowed. The little shadow dancer had been doing splendidly before. It seemed the longer she existed away from the fire, the less she had been able to keep her grace. It was almost as if the rhythm of the flames had been her guide, and now so long removed from them she seemed helpless.

Perhaps Malon could help that.

With determination and affection for the little creature—_thing_?—in her hands, Malon parted her lips and began to sing:

"_Epona, Epona, growing up with me  
When I am with you, I can't be lonely_

_Therefore, Epona, you are here with me  
Together forever, we'll always be"_

Taking her cue, the little shadow dancer stood and began to dance in Malon's hands. She was so lithe, graceful… her every movement flowed like water. She was weightless.

"_The night was dark, I was cold  
At the dawn of that day  
The moon had sunk, and with the sun  
You were born"_

Knil shifted, staring up at the sky, pretending to not listen. But he did. He did…

"_Epona, Epona, growing up with me  
When I am with you, I can't be lonely_

_Therefore, Epona, you are here with me  
Listening to this song, for you and me"_

The song filled Malon with sadness. She didn't know why she had chosen that song, she knew so many! For some reason it had just slipped out. The melody her mother used to sing, the lyrics Malon had put to it, dedicated to her only true friend.

"_I started to think that all hope was lost  
Until you came to me  
So it is for your sake, my dearest friend  
That I'm singing this song"_

So focused on her song and the little shadow dancer that moved in her hands was Malon, that she did not notice Knil come to sit beside her.

"_Ooh-ooh-ooh…  
When I am with you, I can't be sad_

_Ooh-ooh-ooh…  
Never forget this song…"_

Malon took in a shuddering breath, the little shadow dancer pausing as she did so.

"_Epona…"_

The final note rang clear and lovely, and sad… so sad… and so _alive_.

The little shadow dancer finished in a flourish, curtsying low as she did so. And just as the little shadow dancer prepared for the last movement, a dark, swarthy hand came down hard over Malon's. Malon shrieked.

The little shadow dancer was crushed into black smoke and dissipated into the crisp night air.

Malon turned to face the assailant. Knil removed his hand from hers, but kept his seat beside her.

"But… why?" Malon asked softly, tears beginning to sting her eyes. Why did he have to kill something so beautiful?

"They do not die." Knil replied, as if hearing her thoughts. "Shadows cannot die because they do not really live."

"What do you mean?" Knil did not answer. He stood and moved away from the fire, towards the fence that enclosed the field. "Knil?" What was _with_ him?

Malon stood, following after him. She mourned distancing herself from the warmth of the fire, as the night had become quite chilly, but moved to stand behind him anyway.

"What do I want…?" Knil said plainly, gripping the edge of the fence with splintering force. "That's what you want to know, isn't it?"

Malon nodded, even though his back was turned to her and he could not see the gesture.

Nonetheless he continued. "The Dark Mirror." he began.

_Always speaking in riddles. _Malon mused.

"It gave me life." Knil took in a deep breath and then released it, feigning apathy, as if he had repeated the story a thousand times before and it now bored him. "Well, Ganon _used_ it to give me life. But then I shattered it."

Malon brought a hand to her mouth, suppressing a gasp. If he had shattered his source of life, then how was he standing before her now? "Why?" she breathed, barely audible.

"Vaati used the Dark Mirror as well, as a source for his power. As long as it existed, he would be invincible." He stopped for a while, as if choosing his words carefully for the next part. "He… wanted to sacrifice the Princess Zelda. It was the only way to break Ganon's seal and release him. I always knew this was the plan, but when it came time to actually go _through_ with it…"

Hearing him say that, say _her_ name, Malon wanted to turn and run. She wanted to run straight out into Hyrule field and just keep running and running, as far she could, until she couldn't run anymore. Anything to get away from here, from _him_. But she refrained, and instead crept closer.

"It wasn't a matter of morality!" He amended quickly. "I simply did not want to see her wasted like that. I had grown accustomed to tormenting her as my prisoner, or _attempting_ to torment her. But nothing I did ever seemed to discourage her in the least, which made her all the more appealing. It was the conquest I craved." He licked his lips, stalling.

Malon was almost insulted by his choice of wording. _Conquest_? Like a piece of land waiting to be taken? Was that all she had been; an easy conquest?

"And also… something else. I suppose… her humanity." He whispered this, as if he didn't quite want anyone to hear. "So I, myself, destroyed the Dark Mirror. Without it Vaati was vulnerable, and your precious _hero, _all four of him in fact, vanquished the sorcerer without difficulty."

She didn't understand what Knil meant by _all four of him_. She deduced he must have been referring to Link, but the rest remained a mystery. Still, she did not ask.

"I thought I was going to die." He said it so simply, without fear or remorse; it was just a fact, nothing more. "I should have known, that which does not live cannot die." His voice was bitter now. "I could not exist in the world of light without the Dark Mirror, but I continued to exist."

"In the Dark World…" Malon did not say it, but her lips formed the words.

"I had to escape. I couldn't stay there! I couldn't! I refused to!" His shout came out of nowhere, and the wood of the fence cracked under the force of his grasp.

"Knil…" Malon cooed softly, soothingly.

Knil interrupted, his voice coming again in whispers. "In my search for an escape, I discovered that the Dark Mirror was not the only artifact of its kind. There were two others." Black smoke formed beside Knil, hardening into a familiar shape. "One, the Shadow Blade." The sword floated beside him; its blade dark and crooked, its hilt intricate and frightening. "It allowed me to exist in the world of light, but it could not grant me life. Existence, only existence… never life."

A part of Malon was tempted to reach out and touch the blood-stained Shadow Blade, but thankfully the sword vanished before she had the chance to act upon the foolish impulse.

Knil lifted his hands from the gate, staring down at them fiercely. "This… _mockery_ of a human body. This… _travesty_ is the limit of its power."

_So that is why he does not bleed or cry, why fire cannot burn him and light… what _does_ light do to him? _Behind her, the fire began to die down.

"But the final artifact," Knil resumed, recollecting his calm, "the Shade Pendant. It can give me _life_. It can make me more than an inferior shadow of a hero; bound to the man I hate most!" He slammed his hands down to his sides, curled into fists.

_Does it bother him so much to be a part of Link? Does he hate him so much?_ Malon took a step closer, but stopped as Knil resumed speaking.

"When fist I arrived here, in your world, I headed straight for the desert. I thought, if anyone should have knowledge of the whereabouts of accursed jewelry, it would be the Gerudo. Unfortunately, I was greeted as a servant of Ganondorf's; I was not well received." His speech had become monotonous, measured. "I had neither the time nor the patience to deal with such annoyances. Though I suppose decapitating the fools left and right did not earn me any allies."

It took a strong force of will from Malon not to gasp. Murder came so easily to Knil; he spoke of it as if one would speak of rain.

"And my luck never ceases, for it so happened that your precious _hero_ happened to be visiting Gerudo Valley that night. I could not fight him, not so long as he wielded that damned blade of evil's bane. One cut, one scratch from the Master Sword and the power of the Shadow Blade is nullified. One touch from the legendary sword and I would be forced out of this world, not even to return to the Dark World. No, I would no longer exist."

Now Malon did gasp. One cut? One _scratch_? A touch alone, and he would die? But… hadn't he said shadows could not die?

Once again, knowing her thoughts, Knil answered her unvoiced query. "I would not die. No. Worse, far worse. No hopes for an after life, or eternal salvation. No corpse left behind, nothing. I would simply cease to exist. Gone from this world, from any world, as if I had never existed at all."

_Oh, Knil… how awful! _Fully spent, the fire sputtered and died. Neither noticed.

"I fled. I was hit many times by projectile weapons of all sorts; be it arrows, bombs, or otherwise. I managed to escape, but I was not in the best condition. Normally, my shadow form repairs itself instantaneously. But the more severe the wound, the longer it may take to heal. Wandering aimlessly in Hyrule field, more damaged than I had ever really been before, I happened upon a stream. I thought, if I lay in the water, perhaps my shadow form would repair itself more quickly…"

"And that's where I found you." Malon finished for him. At least she hopes he was finished. She couldn't listen to anymore. It was too much! She was torn inside; she didn't know how to feel about what he had just told her. She wanted to feel sympathy, to look upon his pitiful plight with compassion. And yet he had committed so much evil! How could she not condemn him?

But was it fair to judge him by human standards? Life had been unfair. He had not even been granted that which every person has; humanity. Was it really just for her to judge him by the morals of that which had been denied him?

This… Shade Pendant was it? It would make him human, right? That was what he had said, wasn't it? Perhaps, if he could only find the Shade Pendant, if he could only become human, he would change! He _could_ change! She believed it!

"Knil…" she began softly, awkwardly. "If you had the Shade Pendant, what would you do?"

"I would kill Link." He said matter-of-factly. "Then I no longer would be the shadow of any man. I _would_ be the man. There would be no other like me. I would be myself, only myself." He did not hesitate, did not doubt for a moment. That is what he would do. His self-appointed fate was set in stone.

Strangely, this did not anger Malon as she thought it would have. Instead, a deep sense of pity washed over her. Poor, pitiful Knil. The shadow of a man; eternally existing but never alive.

Gingerly, Malon reached out; tucking her arms to Knil's sides and embracing his chest. She held herself against him, hiding her face in his strong, broad back. _A false body…_

Knil protested, his voice livid.

But Malon noted that, despite his furious objections, he made no move to push her away. Neither did he vanish into smoke. Malon remained still, and after a while he stopped complaining.

Malon held herself to him tightly but gently, the tears she shed for all the pain he caused her soaking into the back of his soot colored tunic. Knil stared out at the horizon, for as long as he could manage, as the sun rose above the distant mountain tops.

Then, without a word, he vanished; Malon's arms falling limp in front of her. Shivering from the loss of his form, Malon looked up at the sunrise with weary, bewildered eyes; letting the light wash over and bathe her in its promising warmth.

* * *

No review replies this time, just to help get this chapter up faster. 

I will do them next chapter for sure though, okay? Again, so sorry!

Thank you all so much for all your wonderful reviews! They're the reason I don't just say "Screw it, I already know how this is going to end. Why write it out?"

Much love!


	9. Take Your Pleasure, Play With My Lament

Hurray! I updated!

And the award for longest chapter title goes to... Don't worry. I promise the other chapters will have better names. This line just seemed to fit so well the way it was, I couldn't trim it.

What's this now? This chapter seems shorter than the last ones! And not much happens, is this a filler? Not exactly. This is a brief glimpse into Knil's mind, or the ending is anyway. I felt we needed to have at least a small inkling of what was going on in that crazy shadow head of his. It's twisted in there, let me tell you that.

But don't be deceived! It may look like things are starting to resolve themselves, but remember the calm before the storm.

Next chapter, it all goes to hell...

* * *

**  
Take Your Pleasure When You Play With My Lament**

The morning had been quiet, as most mornings had grown to be. All through the afternoon; Malon tended to her work, waiting for Knil to show himself. There was so much she wanted to say to him, but she couldn't seem to find the words. She couldn't even seem to form a coherent sentence in her mind, let alone out loud. With a sigh of resignation, Malon tried in vain to focus on sweeping the barn floor.

There was just too much to say and no way to say it. How did she explain how she felt? How could one person evoke such contradictory emotions, and so powerfully at that? No, he wasn't even a person. And though Malon feared Knil, and though he had tormented her so, she couldn't help her developing affection for him. She was torn to the point that Malon almost felt as if there were two halves of herself, battling for dominance. One half which shirked away from Knil, wanted to run for her life at the sight of him. And the other half which ached for his presence, which, as much as she loathed to admit it, relished in his touch.

She feared him, she pitied him. She was repulsed by him, she wanted him. She hated him, she loved him.

Malon stilled her broom, shocked by her own realization. She… _loved_ him? Now that wasn't right. How does a person love a shadow? The very concept was as absurd as thinking a person could love the wind, or the dirt.

_And besides_, Malon reasoned, resuming her sweeping, _I've always been most fond of Link._

"You seem troubled." That all too familiar voice, like scalding black silk, spoke behind her. "I like it." Knil said, the smirk evident in his tone.

Malon did not look back at him. She kept her eyes on her sweeping, trying her hardest to seem unaffected. "I am behind in my work." She said simply, hoping he couldn't hear the slight tremor in her voice.

"Oh, is that the reason?" he chuckled in amusement, snaking his arms around her waist. Malon's legs suddenly felt like water. "How very conceited of me. Here I thought I was the source of your delicious discomfort."

Malon swallowed thickly. He seemed to be in an odd mood. Then again, he was always in some kind of strange mood. Whether it was a sadistic one, a mischievous one, a somber one, or… whatever mood he was in now. And by the Goddesses—what was he doing to her neck!?

Knil found her pulse point and nipped at it, savoring the taste of her skin. He wondered, if he had a human body, would his skin taste any different? Did humans come in a variety of flavors, as they did colors? And if so, where they all as intoxicating as this? Or was it solely a trait of Malon's?

"Kn-nil." Malon choked out, hating the way her back seemed to arch into his touch. How was it that she seemed to lose control over her body when he stood near? Was it another one of his shadow tricks; possessing her body? "Please!" With effort, she pulled away and distanced herself.

He seemed almost hurt for a moment, but the expression was fleeting; replaced almost instantly by his usual smirk. Actually, Malon couldn't be sure if he'd seemed hurt at all. He was always so difficult to read, as mysterious as the shadows that had borne him.

"But I'm _bored_!" He whined suddenly, like a spoiled child denied his favorite plaything. The shift in his moods was perplexing.

"Bored?" Malon huffed indignantly, setting her broom to the side. "You come to torture me because you're _bored_?"

Knil quirked an eyebrow, apparently amused by her outburst. "Torture? You call _this_ torture?" he lunged forward and pulled her against him.

Malon flushed at the sudden contact, hiding her face in his chest so he could not see her reaction to him. "It's very distracting!" She protested. "And I have work to do."

"Distracting? Perhaps." Knil conceded, releasing his hold on Malon, who turned away immediately. "But torture, no."

She did not reply. There was nothing she could say that wouldn't encourage him.

Knil did not appreciate being ignored. He narrowed his eyes at the little ranch girl as she moved over to a box in the corner, where she had arranged a pillow and a few blankets, all to keep a special little egg inside warm. What was so damned interesting about that lousy egg anyway?

Malon crouched beside the box and cooed at the little egg as she checked on it. As if the stupid thing could hear her! Fuming, the shadow walked over to the box; giving it a subtle kick. Malon yelped, clutching the egg protectively. She glared up at Knil.

"What?!" Knil spread his arms defensively, feigning innocence. "Why do you assume it was me?!"

"I saw you do it!" She said, turning back to the little egg and wrapping it back in its blankets tenderly.

It pleased Knil to know she had seen him, because that meant she had been watching him. Still, the fact that the stupid egg was a gift from Link made Knil's insides boil! Or, well, it _would_ have made Knil's insides boil, if he _had_ any insides.

"It's a stupid cucco egg." He said in disdain. "You already have an entire coop of those accursed birds. Why do you need another one?"

"This one's different." Malon said sweetly, patting the little egg with care. "Those other cuccos are ranch animals. This one is a pocket cucco; made to be a pet." She smiled down at the little egg as she stood, like a proud mother. "And it was a gift." she added as an afterthought.

Knil's fists clenched. "I see, a gift. So that's it." He moved away from the box, towards Ingo's work bench. And on the bench sat Link's stupid saddle Ingo was repairing. Knil just couldn't get away from him! In a moment of blind fury, Knil flipped over the work bench, sending Ingo's tools flying into the opposite wall.

"Knil!" Malon gasped, rushing over in concern, forgetting that shadows could not suffer injuries. "Are you alright? What happened?" She righted the upturned workbench, lest Ingo question her about it later.

"Are you in love with him?" Knil grated between clenched teeth. He didn't know why he cared. Really, Malon's affections didn't concern him in the slightest. _But why him?_ Knil seethed. _If it was anyone else, I couldn't be less interested. But _him

"Knil…" Malon put a comforting hand on his arm, but the shadow shrugged it away. He didn't want to be touched at the moment. Especially not by _her_.

"Are you in love with him?" He repeated, whirling on Malon viciously.

"What are you talking about?" She couldn't hide her fear. This was the Knil that she hated, the one that was always hurting her.

"Who else?!" Knil snapped, smoke rising from his form in rage. "Link; the wonder boy!" he roared, capturing Malon's wrists in his crushing grip.

"Knil…" She wanted to cry, not only from fear, but from confusion. Just seconds ago he had been behaving like an annoyed child. What had set him off like this? "I don't understand."

"Do you love him? Yes or no!" Knil shook her, his grip on her wrists bruising the delicate skin. "It isn't a difficult question!"

"It's an impossible question!" Malon cried, trying to pull her wrists away in pain, to no avail. "Love isn't a simple matter of yes or no!"

"Then what is it?" he hissed, all malice. "Enlighten me!"

"You wouldn't understand…" Malon looked away. She couldn't stand the unbridled rage in his eyes a moment longer; those red, burning eyes. Her wrists were throbbing where his fingers crushed the fragile flesh. Why did he have to hurt her like this? Why couldn't he always be the witty, sarcastic but humorous, almost shy Knil he had been that day in the windmill?

"Of course I wouldn't." He muttered dangerously, relinquishing his hold on her. Malon backed away, cradling her aching wrists. For a moment she had been worried he would break them. "Shadows know nothing of such burdens." He was quiet now, but disconcertingly so. Malon shuddered; there came no comfort in the calm before the storm.

Malon looked down at the reddish marks on her skin. By tomorrow they would be several hues of green, violet, and blue.

"Malon." Knil called to her softly.

Malon's head snapped up, eyes wide, to face him. Rarely did Knil ever use her name. Even stranger had been how he had said it. Almost… mournfully?

"Malon," he echoed, "do you… fear me?" His expression was blank, no evidence to his thoughts to be found there. Yet his eyes shone, as always, simultaneously dark and shining.

She did not reply, not sure what answer he wanted her to give. If she said she was afraid, it might anger him. But if she said she wasn't afraid, he might try to prove otherwise. Either way, he'd harm her.

But Knil misunderstood her silence. He would not tolerate being ignored. Without warning he spun on his heel and walked over to the box in the corner, snatching up Malon's prized little egg, and smashed it against the wall. Malon inhaled sharply, crying out in horror.

Knil wiped away the remains of the unborn creature without interest and turned back to Malon, chillingly calm. "Now, a simple answer to a simple question. Do you fear me?"

Malon pressed her fingertips to her lips to keep them from trembling. She shut her eyes to the sight of Link's precious gift to her; crushed in a mess of viscous fluid. The poor thing was dead, killed before it ever even had a chance to know life. How could Knil not be appalled by his own actions?

"I won't ask again." Knil said, firm but still icily tranquil, advancing on her.

Malon took a deep, shuddering breath and opened her eyes, meeting Knil's gaze with equal intensity. Her eyes read clearly; _I hate you_. Steeling her courage, Malon retorted; her voice tremulous, though more out of loathing than fear. "What do I have to fear from a mere _shadow_ of a man?"

Her biting words hit their intended mark. With a wrathful groan, Knil grabbed Malon's hair and violently flipped her around, shoving her down over the bench. He stood behind her, pinning her arms behind her back, and pressed her body hard into the wood of the workbench. Malon yelped in pain, but he paid her no mind.

"That may be so, _my dear_." Knil rasped into her ear, the endearment contrasting sharply with the fury in his voice. "But even a mere shadow of a man has only one real use for a _woman_!"

His left hand, laced through her hair and pulling at it, crushed her face into the workbench. Malon tried to lift her head, tried to shift into a less painful position, but he was too strong; she couldn't budge. His free hand reached down and roughly pulled her skirt up over her hips. His chest pressed against her back, pinning her. She couldn't even struggle.

Silent tears slipped from Malon's eyes, soaking into the wood of the workbench. Not this… anything but this. How was it even possible? How could he take such pleasure in causing her such pain? Biting her bottom lip, Malon prayed to the Goddesses; hoping they would sooner take her life than let her endure this.

But the prayer was superfluous; for as abruptly as he had forced her down, he released her. She could feel him move away. Then, without a word, he vanished.

Malon stood shakily, smoothing her skirt back down and straightening herself out. Trembling, she walked over to the broom and took it into her hands. She began to sweep, as if nothing had happened, trying to believe nothing had happened. Nothing _had_ happened, really. He'd scared her, but he'd let her go. He hadn't actually… but he had intended to.

The broom fell to the floor with a hollow thud. Malon followed it, sinking to her knees. She sobbed openly, clutching her mother's brooch. Mutely she wondered if her suffering would ever end.

It was late into the night when a shadow crept into Malon's room. Without a sound, the shadow moved to stand over the bed; looking down at the sleeping girl who lay there.

Her brow was furrowed, troubled. Instinctively, Knil reached out to smoothen it; his touch feather-light. Stupid girl. Stupid, foolish, hated girl. And oh, how he _hated_ her!

He hated how irrationally _guilty_ she made him feel! Imagine—a shadow—guilty! And really, it was her own fault! It wasn't like he _wanted_ to hurt her! He wouldn't go out of his way to see her suffer, why would he? She was his. She belonged to him. She was one thing his damned fairer half couldn't take from him, he had claimed her first!

Mentally, physically, she was his. Even Link, the great hero of Hyrule, could not undo what had been done. Even emotionally, she was his conquest! Link could never make her feel the way he did. The foolish boy could never make her gasp and moan, or cower and cry, not the way Knil had.

Knil didn't want to hurt her, but he would continue to. If she kept fighting him, if she tried to deny him, he would hurt her. Didn't she understand?! If she just gave in to him, he wouldn't have to do these things. It could all be so much simpler. He might even reward her for obedience, like he did with the campfire and the shadow dancer. Those had been gifts to her, didn't she see it? A useless, stupid cucco egg didn't _compare_ to what he had offered her!

Then why did she treasure it so?

Knil gazed down at Malon, willing her to understand. If she was compliant, if she submitted, followed him without question, he would be good to her. He could be. He would take such good care of her. She would be somewhat of a pet, a companion, a distraction from his deplorable state. And he would take such _excellent_ care of her. Anything she wanted, anything in the world, he'd give it to her.

An image flashed in Knil's mind, unbidden. There, he and Malon stood together in the field. He held her close, not as his property but as an equal. And she was smiling, content to rest in his arms, not forced.

The thought affected him more than it should have. More than he should have allowed it to. Without thinking he leaned forward and planted a light, chaste kiss on her forehead. Perhaps someday he might…

He pulled away swiftly, as if burned. He didn't bother finishing the thought; it was a fool's wish.

After all, he wasn't even really a man.

* * *

Now, do we want to hug Knil? Or smack him silly? I think he needs a bit of both actually... 

Review Replies!

**Axie-chan: **Thank you! I'm so glad you like it. Don't worry, you'll know it's the end when I write "Fin" at the bottom.

**Demon Darkchild: **Thanks! Ill try my best to keep it up. Though admittedly it's harder to write when I'm low on sweets...

**SweetestChick:** Ooh, you might add me to your faves? Eep, thanks so much! Yeah, I love Link too. There's no doubt that these two will have to face off eventually. Only question is; who will triumph?

**Zequistis Free Spirit:** Your wish is my command! Look, and update! And don't worry about not having time to review all the chapters. Just getting one review every few chapters from you makes my day!

**God of Static:** Awesome? My little story? Thanks! And to tell you the truth.. (whispers) the real conflict has scarcely begun.

**ForTheLoveOfSugar:** Shh! You know what's going to happen. Pirate locks, crazy old women, mysterious man who lives in the bathroom., the usual. Haha, just kidding. Hey, you never mailed me the games. Or my clothes! Seriously, I need them! It's snowing over here!

**Reasons Lost:** And just that means more to me than I can say. Thank you.

**little-chibi-girl:** Ah, yes. The addictive properties of Twilight Princess. The horse's name Equus. That's pronounced Ec-wuss. It comes from the Latin/scientific name for horse.

**That one kid:** Hey... I know you! You're that one kid! Oh wait, maybe I'm confusing you with that other one kid. Anyway, thanks so much! Hmm, you seem suspicious of Malon's brooch I see. Well, I can't say anymore without giving it away, but trust me when I say it isn't what you'd expect.

**xbluxmoonx: **Haven't read a story as good as this one? (Blushes) Thank you so much! I'm so happy! I was so worried that people wouldn't like this story when I started it. Now I'm glad I didn't trash the idea.

**Odai: **Overuse of exclamation marks? You know, I never even noticed. I'll take your word for it though. I'll try to improve on that. Thanks! Oops, sorry! Ahh, I did it again! ARG! I can't stop!

**Baronfly:** Rabid flying monkeys? NOOOO! (runs) I'm sorry! Here's the update! Please don't hurt me, your royal monkey-ness!

**shadowsasuke:** Thanks! Sorry this chapter didn't come as soon as you'd hoped. But better late than never right?

**The Legend of Soul Emblem:** Epona's song has lyrics, but their in Japanese. I looked up a translation, but the words didn't rhyme or fit in with the beat. So I re-wrote the song, while trying to keep it as faithful to the Japanese lyrics as I could. As for the timeline, don't try to understand it. I just rearranged the game timeline to fit with the plot I had in mind. So for this story, just pretend that Four Swords happened after Majora's Mask. Malon in TP? You know... at night, you can hear her voice in Hyrule field. That had me so psyched, I was riding around in circles looking for her for hours. Then I figured out she wasn't in it, they just used the sound effect of her voice for atmosphere. Le sigh...

**inthearmynow:** Yes, Knil is very decapitat-y, isn't he? Malon really likes him. The saddest part is though, I think Knil's starting to like her too, he just doesn't know it. And meanwhile, he just keep tormenting poor Malon. I wonder what Link's going to say about this? Oh, but maybe I've said too much!

**pinguinolatino: **Yes! That's exactly how I felt about TP! And the season finale of Avatar. Question for you, fellow Avatard. Do you think the rumor about Zuko going to search for his mom next season is true? And if so, do you think he'll find her? Or is she dead?

**JosephineInLove: **I'm so glad you liked my story! Thanks so much! I told Knil that you adore him, and he wanted to reply to you personally. (Knil: I will DESTROY you!) Aww, isn't he precious?

**Topaze Fire:** Knil's kinda funny, isn't he? One second he seems to be opening up, the next moment he's completely closed himself off and has Malon in a headlock. Seriously, I think even WW Ganondorf would look at Knil and say "Wow... okay, that guy has issues."

**TheWatcherandReader: **Thank you! I'll try my best.

**chocolateteddygrahams: **I re-read your review so many times. I just couldn't stop. You think I'm a good writer? And then you point out what you think is good? You made me so happy... I can't even describe it. (Knil: Pfft. Yeah, _some _writer.) Hush Knil! Anyway, about Malon's broach. Yes, there is more to the little trinket than meets the eye. But it isn't exactly what you'd expect. And don't worry about long reviews! Long reviews make happy authors.

**Ecchi-ANBU: **Thank you! After reading some of your past reviews, I was worried you might find the last chapter too fluffy. I was so relived to know you liked it. Phew... Yeah, I'm not too keen on pointless fluff either.

**Hydro-Wolf:** Hey Hydro! Hey Shadow! Oh, yeah... about Link. Please refrain from killing him for a while. I still need him for the story. (Link: What did I do?) Oh Link, you're so oblivious! Meanwhile the entire world plots your demise... (Link: Not the entire world.) Yes, the entire world. Even Malon. Look how sympathetic she is to Knil, she doesn't even mind that he wants to kill you. (Link: WHAAAT?) I know, it's hard out here for a hero...

**Tinkies: **Well, not exactly A.S.A.P. but it's here! I hope it was worth the wait. (crosses fingers)

**Spiritual Stone:** Ahahaha! Poor Link. The Knil fans all want him to die. (Link: Why? What did I ever do?) Silly Link! Trix are for shadows. Malon is a very sweet girl. I still don't understand how she puts up with Knil. (Knil: Because if she doesn't, I'll make her life misreble?) Oh yeah, that too.


	10. You Cast A Shadow Bound Romance

(Tries to sneak in without getting lynched by the angry mob of impatient readers)

**Random Reader #42: **HEY! There she is! GET HER!

**Pleading Eyes:** No! I can explain! Don't use the rat-flails! Waaaaagh!

Okay, actually, despite my comical references to rat-flails, I am most sincerely and truly sorry. It's just, between moving states, renting a room, getting a new job, starting college, and taking up musical theater, I've been busy.

I know it's not an excuse, and I'll try harder to get these chapters out more quickly. But please readers, stay with me! I promise I'll make the ending worthwhile! Even though none of you will expect it...

* * *

**You Cast A Shadow Bound Romance**

"I don't know when or how he even got out." Ingo sighed, running a hand through his thinning hair. "We can't afford to start losing horses now too."

Malon nodded where she knelt, feigning ignorant. She knew perfectly well when Equus had gotten loose, and how. But she said nothing, knowing it would be impossible to explain the circumstances without mentioning Knil. And she didn't want to talk about Knil anyway. She didn't even want to think about him.

In all honesty, she felt downright idiotic. She had been so distracted with Knil, she had completely forgotten to chase after the escaped horse, and she had been even more foolish to think Ingo wouldn't notice eventually.

"Equus is too old to be wandering alone out there," Malon said softly. "I hope he's alright."

Ingo agreed and picked up his pitchfork as he walked out of the barn. There was still work to be done, with or without the missing steed.

Malon finished tying the straw blocks and stood, dusting her skirts. With the efficiency that comes with years of practice, Malon looped her fingers under the string and hoisted the straw block onto her shoulder. She headed out, meaning to join Ingo at the field, but was stopped by a hand on her free arm.

She hadn't expected Knil to show himself so early.

Malon pulled her arm out of his grasp, though gently, and continued to move. Ever stubborn, Knil appeared before her; blocking her exit.

"Let me through." Malon said politely but coldly, as one would to a stranger.

"What's your hurry?" Knil said in his usual, teasing tone. His ever-present smirk mocked the farm-girl before him.

How could he be so comfortable with what he had done? Malon couldn't wrap her head around it, and underneath the confusion, fear began to bubble up. "You're disgusting." She replied dismissively, attempting to move around him.

Knil side-stepped, once again impeding her exit. But Malon was in no mood for his games. She threw the block of straw she carried into Knil's face, distracting him long enough for her to move around him and out of the barn.

Behind her, gaze locked on the straw as he wiped it off his form and onto the floor, Knil spoke so softly that it might have been directed more at himself than her. "You let me do it…"

Malon stopped in her tracks and whirled around in disbelief. It was unthinkable! What nerve! To say she _allowed_ it?! Even as she struggled against him?!

"You never actually said no." Knil added quickly, defensively.

Malon took a deep, steady breath; quelling her anger, and spoke with a tranquility, so cold and detached, it could have made an ordinary man shudder. "I shouldn't have to."

Then she turned and walked away, towards the field to meet Ingo. Knil did not follow after her into the day, even as thick clouds impeded the sun's full rays.

_Looks like rain_, Malon tried to deter her thoughts from Knil.

Malon went through the motions of being untroubled, and for the most part it seemed to work. Knil did not bother her again. On the surface, the morning seemed as dull and routine as mornings had always been prior to the shadow's arrival. But Malon was anything but calm. Underneath the façade of everyday tedium, a surge of conflicting emotions coursed through Malon's veins. She felt as if she was falling apart, and the best she could do to keep the pieces of herself together was to pretend that nothing was wrong. If she pretended that everything was as it should be, then maybe it _would_ be.

She wiped away a sniffle as she bent down to retrieve the cuccos' eggs from their pen. Everything was alright. Nothing was wrong. She was fine. She was fine.

For a moment she almost believed the mantra. But as fate would have it, the savior's arrival could not have had worse timing.

Malon carried the bundle of cucco eggs and entered the kitchen. She meant to store the eggs, the routine being such a common one that she almost moved without thinking. But Malon halted at the threshold as she happened upon, to her great surprise, three men sitting at the dining room table; Ingo, Talon, and Link.

For a few moments she just watched dumbly as Link narrated a tale of his travels; a rather humorous little anecdote of how he solved a verbal misunderstanding between two prominent Goron and Zora leaders.

"And then, just when we thought everything was settled and good," Link took a breath, trying to recover from his own fit of giggles, "the Zora goes up and says, 'On behalf of the Zora tribe, I extend our deepest friendship and support to the Moron tribe.'"

Talon burst into hearty guffaws, slamming Link on the back. Link choked on his own laughter as Talon's hard back-pats inadvertently pushed Link forward into the table. Ingo just smiled in amusement, watching the spectacle with reserved mirth.

"I'm standing there, going like this," Link waved urgently and made exaggerated gestures, while whispering; "It's _Goron_! With a _G_!"

"Amazing!" said Talon, still chortling. "Only you, Link-my-boy. I'm tellin' you; after all that, it's a miracle they weren't at each other's throats!"

Link smiled modestly and looked down at the table warily; should Talon slap him on the back again. "It's not really amazing at all. Peace isn't difficult, not when people want it."

Ingo nodded in assent, ready to put his two cents in. "We live in fortunate times. The Goron and Zora are peaceful peoples. And even the war-coveting types, like the Gerudo, seem to value peace these days."

"I think Hyrule's had it's fill of war, regardless of province or race." Link replied. "Except for the Deku Scrubs; the trouble-loving rascals." He added, chuckling. "But luckily they're not nearly as threatening as they would like to be."

"Lousy walkin', talkin' shrubberies!" Talon said. "Dealing with them types alone makes you a hero in my book. Hey," Talon nudged Link teasingly, "how'd you like to marry Malon?"

Link cheeks flushed, but before he could form an answer, a shriek of protest rang through the room.

The sound caught Malon off-guard, and she jumped, only to discover _she_ was the source of the shriek.

"Father!" She stomped into the kitchen and spilled the eggs into the sink, unconcerned if they cracked; she'd deal with them later. "Stop spouting such nonsense!" Malon huffed, turning on Talon. "Link isn't interested in marrying into a poor, laboring family! Why would he be, when he has all matter of women at his disposal?!"

The outburst contrasted so _appallingly_ with Malon's usually sweet and demure demeanor, it left even Malon herself speechless. She hadn't meant to accuse Link of anything! How had this even come up?

"Excuse me." Malon said quickly, her eyes downcast, before turning and swiftly departing from the room.

She hurried back towards the barn, hoping to distract herself with work and forget all about what she had done, but at the farm's exit a pair of horses caught her attention. One was Epona; patiently awaiting her master's return. The other was a pinto, his pelt a beautiful speckling of brown and white.

"Equus!" Malon exclaimed in relief, walking over to check the older horse. He seemed a bit worn, but otherwise in good health. With a slight smile, Malon brushed her hands along the horse's side, his bristly pelt a delightful contrast to the smoothness of her skin.

"That's why I stopped by." came his voice, so warm and serene it seemed almost expected. "I found him last night, wandering around like a lost child. I thought he might be one of yours."

"Link." Malon said, nearly inaudible, turning to face that sweet, affectionate visage. "I didn't mean to… I'm sorry—"

"Don't be." Link interjected gently, his head tilting to the side just slightly. He always had such a welcoming countenance. "Though I must admit, I'm not too fond of the image of me _disposing_ of anyone." He teased good-naturedly.

"I didn't mean it." Malon replied, gaze to the floor.

Link gingerly placed a hooked finger under Malon's chin, tipping her face up to meet his eyes. "I know." His eyes were so warm, so kind. He hadn't forgiven her. He didn't have to. He hadn't ever really been angry with her in the first place.

And those eyes again! So perfectly clear and cerulean, like the depths of clean, crisp river. Yet when she looked into them, Malon couldn't help but think of a certain pair of murky, crimson eyes.

"I have to go." Malon said suddenly, pulling away and walking passed the puzzled Hylian hero.

"Malon?" Link called after her in concern. Malon did not turn back, did not reply. She went on silently. "Malon." Link called louder as he watched her become more and more distant, until she disappeared into the windmill. "Malon!" Link bit the inside of his cheek. Something was most definitely amiss. And with that thought, Link hurried back into the house to retrieve his sword and shield, just incase.

Malon shut the windmill door behind her and hid her face in her hands. It was too much. She wasn't strong, or smart, or brave, or anything! She couldn't take this anymore! If she went on like this, she would surely lose her mind.

But at least in the dim of the windmill, she felt oddly safe. For a moment, she almost understood Knil. Darkness was understandably frightening, but only recently had Malon learned how terrifying the light could be. When the light wasn't too bright, just slight as it was now, the world was much less intimidating, smaller. No wonder Knil had wanted it this way. Looking around, Malon wondered if he was in there now, with her.

The door opened abruptly behind her. Link burst into the room, eyes searching frantically for something or someone. _He came after me…_

"Malon!" He said, catching sight of her. Malon did not reply, but calmly shut the door behind him. She didn't want it so bright. "Be honest with me, is everything alright?" Link asked, seeming slightly alarmed. "Talon and Ingo told me you've been acting unusually lately. They're very concerned for you."

"I'm fine." Malon said softly. It wasn't _exactly_ a lie. It wasn't like she was bleeding.

"Malon, _please_." Link insisted, his voice kind in its concern. "If there's anything that's bothering you, anything at all, you can tell me." He spread his arms in an inviting gesture. Malon said nothing. "Is someone bothering you, are you afraid to say anything?"

She barely managed to stop herself from gasping. Was she that easy to read? Had Ingo and her father figured everything out? Or was it Link, who was probably used to such situations and had learned to tell when someone was in her position?

Her surprise was only momentary, but Link caught it. He had seen such things many times on his travels. "Someone _is_ threatening you, aren't they?" He said, his voice deepening.

"No, Link… I'm fine." Malon moved to walk passed him, out of the windmill, but Link caught her arm. He was not rough, but his grip held her firm.

"What's happening, who is it Malon?" Link's voice sounded so on-edge, as if he was already prepared to cut down anyone who Malon singled out. "Who's hurting you?"

"No one! Link, let go of me!" Malon tried to pull away. Link's change in character was scaring her.

"I'm your friend, Mal. You can tell me anything! I'll protect you." He insisted. "Tell me, who's bothering you?"

"Currently?" resonated a voice from nowhere. "The one bothering her seems to be you."

Link released Malon immediately, stood in front of her protectively, and drew his sword in one, fluid motion. "Who's there?" He demanded, stance set to fight.

"Don't you already have the Princess' favor?" said the dark, mocking voice. "You better not touch my little farm girl." Out from a shadow in the corner emerged Knil. So he'd been watching the entire time…

"You?" Link said, dropping his guard and blinking in confusion. "You're alive?"

"No." Knil replied bitterly. "Not quite."

"What are you trying to do? I don't understand!" Link said, frowning. "I thought you'd died, but as an ally! You sacrificed yourself for Princess Zelda. You were one of us!"

Malon looked up at Link curiously. That "_us_" struck her as strange; just like before, when Knil had referred to Link as "_all four of them_." What did it mean?

"Then you suddenly reappear and massacre innocent Gerudos!" Link shouted, raising his shield in defense. "Now you're hiding out here, of all places? What are you trying to do?!"

"Come now, Hero of Hyrule. I thought it'd be painfully obvious by now." Knil tsked, chillingly calm and collected, creeping forward. "I'm trying to _kill you_!" Knil lunged suddenly, Shadow Blade materializing in his hands, and swung at Link.

A clang of clashing steel resounded through the narrow room as Link expertly blocked the attack with his shield. Knil persisted, pushing down on the blade, trying to knock his fairer self aside. But Link pushed back with equal force, wincing from the exertion.

"K-kill me?" Link grimaced. "But why?"

"Who can say?" Knil replied, just as uncomfortable. "I'm a shadow, not a human. I don't _reason_."

With extra effort, Link thrust his whole weight against the shield, pushing Knil away. Knil jumped back to avoid losing his footing, and raised his sword for another attack.

Link raised the Master Sword in response. "Don't worry, Mal. I won't let him hurt you anymore." Link called back over his shoulder, without taking his eyes off his enemy.

"Ironic," Knil retorted, smirking, "_Mal_ means evil in the ancient tongue. But you probably weren't aware of the word's meaning before you adopted it as an endearing little nickname." Knil's smirk grew suggestive as he scanned Malon's body rakishly. "It's probably not the only thing you don't know…" Knil trailed off, his voice husky and heated.

Link's eyes widened in understanding for a second, and then narrowed. He began to shake in rage. "How dare you? Don't you dare suggest such indecent things about Malon!"

"Suggest?" Knil chuckled, shaking his head demeaningly. "You've been gone too long, Hero. Pure little Malon isn't quite so pure anymore."

"I told you to mind your tongue!" Link shouted, leaping forward, sword outstretched.

Knil spun out of harm's way, vanishing into another darkened corner. Link looked fervently in all directions. His shadow had eluded him.

For a while all was still. Only Link's furious breathing could be heard in the enclosed room. Malon clutched her hand over her brooch. She could still feel Knil's presence, somewhere in the room. What was he up to?

A pair of swarthy grey hands suddenly emerged from behind Malon, ensnaring her in their grasp. Malon gasped, alerting Link, who whirled around to face her.

"Now listen. I'm only trying to keep you informed." Knil said pitilessly. "I'm not just hurling lewd accusations." The shadow pulled Malon close, one hand perched on her hip while the other gripped her wrists over her collarbone. "I happen to bear first-hand witness."

Link's grip on his sword tightened in fury. "Don't you lay a hand on her!"

"I already have." Knil said proudly, triumphantly. "Though I would worry less about where I lay my hands, and more about where I lay the girl."

"You're lying!" Link growled, gritting his teeth as if in physical pain. "You disgusting, lecherous baba!"

"Will you look at that?" Knil said facetiously into Malon's ear. "I tell him the truth and how does your dear hero reward my honesty? He insults me!"

"Get away from her!" Link demanded furiously, desperately.

"You misunderstand!" Knil said, his tone sarcastically rational. "It's not like I forced her. My little farm girl is learning to enjoy the shadows." He smelled her hair, taking sadistic pleasure in Link's mounting anger. "Though, I admit I didn't give her much choice."

"I'll kill you!" Link roared, eyes glazed over with unadulterated wrath. He charged with every intention of impaling his insolent shadow.

Knil didn't even blink, but threw Malon forward in his place, poised to collide with Link's sword. Her scream brought Link back to his senses. Lucky that Link was always quick to react and managed to lower his sword in time to catch Malon. Visibly shaken, Link held Malon tightly, defensively.

"Link…?" Malon squeaked up penitently. Link tightened his grip, but said nothing. She had never realized how much he really did care. All this time she had been so focused on her own feelings, and now she had stomped all over Link's! What had she done? "Link, I'm so sorry." She whispered. She didn't know what else to say. It wasn't Knil who was the disgusting baba. It was _her_. She was terrible, unredeemable! And even worse; a small, secret part of her still hoped Link could still love her.

"No, Malon." Link said, as kind and dear as ever. "_I'm_ sorry." She couldn't believe what she was hearing! After everything she had done, he was blaming _himself_? "I should've realized… I should've known! I'm sorry I failed you. It's unforgivable."

"No Link, it isn't—!"

"This is all very sweet and all," Knil interrupted, feigning a yawn, "but I believe we were in the middle of something?"

Link gingerly moved Malon aside, refusing to look at her directly. It was as if he hated to let her see him like this. But it couldn't be helped. Once again, Link raised his sword. His expression was blank, unreadable. "Now that Malon's out of harm's way," he said coolly, "I won't miss."

In an instant, Link was upon him. He thrust his sword sidelong. Knil blocked, just as Link had expected. With a spectacular show of swiftness and strength, Link raised his sword from under Knil's, hurling Knil overhead and onto the floor at Link's opposite side. Knil fell hard, though his form made no thud upon impact.

Shocked and unsure of what just happened, Knil attempted to lift himself off the floor, but suddenly found a sword at his throat. "I warned you." Link said darkly. "I told you I wouldn't miss."

Knil glared at his fairer half with incomprehensible hatred. He had bested him again. He always did.

Without another word, Link raised his sword to deliver the finishing blow. Knil did not even look away.

"Wait—don't!" Malon interjected. Link and Knil both looked to the girl in surprise. They had completely forgotten she was there. "Please don't, Link." Malon cried, moving to Link's side.

Link regarded Malon incredulously. She was _defending_ this monster? "But Malon…"

"Please." Malon pleaded. She knew what would happen if Link's sword so much as scratched Knil. She couldn't let the Shadow Blade's power be nullified. She couldn't let Knil be erased from existence! "I can't explain why, just _please_."

Link smiled tenderly at Malon, before turning to scowl at his shadow on the floor. "Your compassion is wasted on _it_." Link spat. "Still, how can I deny you?" But Link did not lower his sword. Instead, he dropped his shield and with his free-hand reached into his quiver; withdrawing a golden-tipped arrow.

"Link?" Malon asked in worry.

"I'm not going to hurt it." Link sighed, suddenly very tired, pulling some rope out from a pouch on his belt. "I'm just going to make sure it can't escape and cause more trouble." Even as he held the arrow, the golden tip began to glow more and more brightly.

"No!" Knil resisted, suddenly panicked. "Get it away from me!"

"Link?!" Malon asked again, Knil's reaction frightening her.

"It's only a light arrow." Link explained calmly, grabbing Knil's wrists and binding his hands behind his back with the rope and attaching the light arrow. "This won't harm it, only disable its shadow abilities."

"No! Stop! Get it off me! Get it off!" Knil struggled against his bindings, to no avail. "The light…"

"Nothing but a coward." Link muttered dangerously. "Zelda would be ashamed."

Knil ceased his struggle and glared up at Link, squarely in the eye. "As if she ever even mattered!" Link only shook his head in reply.

"What are you going to do to him?" Malon asked, looking down at Knil's. She had never expected to see him in such a vulnerable state.

"It'll be taken to the castle and held for trial." Link said stoically, tying Knil to a post.

Once Link was confident in Knil's immobilization, he sent Ingo on horseback with a letter to the castle to fetch help in transporting the difficult prisoner.

Link and Malon sat on the floor, opposite where Knil lay. Though Link held her, Malon's mind was stuck on the shadow of a man who had run her life recently. It was unthinkable, just until moments ago he had been untouchable. Now he lay at her feet, at her mercy. She almost felt as if she should apologize, but what was there to apologize for? He had brought this on himself.

Malon searched for his eyes, trying to meet them, to explain how concerned she was. Knil only glanced up at her, briefly, before looking away. He didn't say anything. He didn't have to. His simple gesture said it all; _traitor._

Malon nodded. She understood. He wasn't even going to try to coerce her into freeing him. He didn't want anything to do with her.

He was leaving her…

After everything that had happened, all that she had let go for him, he was still leaving her.

Malon knew she should be relieved. With Knil gone, he wouldn't be able to torment or terrify her anymore. His mind games were over, she could go back to her normal life without living in fear. And yet, if Knil was gone, Malon knew she would miss those rare moments of companionship; the brief times he allowed her a glimpse into a weaker part of himself, and let her lean on him too.

As insane as it seemed, she both wanted and didn't want this to happen. She didn't want to see Knil taken away! But as Malon thought of the previous day's events, of how close he had come to violating her, she could only hang her head in acceptance. This had to happen, for everyone's sake. Knil was bad.

Link's arms around Malon tightened, reminding her of his presence. She looked up at him entreatingly. Why did this have to hurt so much? Wasn't there another way?

Link misunderstood Malon's distress, and simply held her face in his chest; reassuring her that the shadow would be punished for what he had done. Tears sprung to Malon's eyes at the thought, but she wiped them away against Link's shirt. She couldn't cry now. It just wasn't appropriate. She was being rescued, after all.

It was no more than a couple hours later that Ingo returned with twenty soldiers and their Captain. They brought a prisoner's carriage with them; which was much like a carriage except that in place of seats or room for cargo, it had a barred cage on wheels.

It had already started to sprinkle outside when Link and Malon emerged from the windmill to greet the soldiers.

The Captain saluted Link, showing him the letter that Ingo had delivered. Link confirmed the letter's authenticity.

The soldiers dragged Knil out in front of the prisoner's carriage, without care. Link nodded to the Captain and then rode on ahead to alert the castle to the shadow's arrival. Malon watched him disappear into the distance, mournfully.

The rain began to pour then, as if even the Goddesses themselves cried for fate's cruel outcome. The soldiers took the opportunity to punt mud at their prisoner, deriding him. Knil said nothing; he didn't even look at them.

"You like abusing innocent Hyruleans?" probed a particularly anxious soldier. "Well, let's see how _you_ like it, shadow bastard!" The soldier kicked Knil squarely in the gut, his metal boots making a sickening squelch against Knil's pseudo-flesh.

Knil grimaced, but did not reply.

"You ignoring me, shadow?" The soldier spat in Knil's face. Knil did not flinch, made no effort no wipe away the mess. "Yeah, ignore that!"

"You think you can damage our castle, threaten _our_ Princess, and get away with it?!" Another soldier chimed in, planting his foot in Knil's side and rolling him face down into the muck. Knil did not even cringe.

It was too much. "Please…" Malon begged the Captain softly. The Captain shrugged and signaled the men. With displeasure, the men hoisted Knil up and threw him roughly into the cage. Fortunately the barred top of the cage was covered, as the floor had already begun to pool with water and mud. Knil paid it no mind; he only sat up on his knees, eyes averted but not downcast. He was above all this. In his simple, unresponsive conduct, Knil was higher than all the petty soldiers with their insults and attacks.

Malon stared into those scarlet eyes, which lacked their usual glow. They were pale and empty as she had never seen them. His beautiful, naturally silver hair, muddied and soaked into a filthy brown, fell over his face and stuck to his skin. Malon stepped forward and gripped the bars of wood and iron. Longing surged up in Malon's breast. She longed to reach forward and gently brush the muddied bangs out of his eyes. She yearned to just pull him close, to rock him until this stoic, unresponsive, _dead_ shadow faded back into mischievous Knil. She wanted to see him smirk at her! She wanted him to tease her, to trick her! She wanted him to do _something_!

"Knil…" Malon said softly, soothingly, frustrated with how powerless she was. "I never meant for this to happen." He didn't reply, didn't react. He didn't even seem to have heard.

The Captain barked orders to his men, who returned to their mounts and assigned guarding positions. One soldier, who thought himself particularly clever, quickly broke rank and rode over to the prisoner's carriage. He whooped as he removed the cover from the cage's top, allowing for the rain to flow in freely.

Malon watched in horror as the other soldiers cheered seeing Knil drenched. Knil coughed up some water that had managed to slip down his throat, which only egged the soldiers on.

"He does feel cold, you know!" Malon objected, offended by their callousness. They were supposed to be justice!

"It's a shadow." The Captain said. "It doesn't feel. And even if it did, this isn't anything it didn't deserve."

Malon remembered the stories of the shadow's temporary hostile take-over of Hyrule castle. But _that_ was the shadow! _This_ was Knil! Couldn't they see the difference? Then again, how could she expect them to see the difference, when she had been unable to reconcile this paradox until this very moment?

"He does feel cold." Malon echoed her own words stubbornly, inaudibly.

"Alright men! Move out!" the Captain bellowed.

Malon could only watch helplessly as the parade of soldiers rode away, Knil prisoner in their midst. _He cast this upon himself,_ Malon told herself, but it didn't help. She stood and stared at Knil's retreating form, squinting to keep him in her view for as long as she could, until it became impossible to make out even a smudge of his color in the distance.

Around her, but for the downpour, all was silence. Malon turned away, her boots squishing in the mud. The day was evaporating, evening sinking in. How strange, that the weather she first found Knil in should reflect when he would leave her.

Malon entered the house tiredly, leaning against the shut door behind her. Talon and Ingo, who seemed to have been arguing intensely before she entered, suddenly rushed forward. A torrent of apologetic words and worried questions flooded towards her, but Malon heard nothing save a dull roar and the sound of the overflowing gutters outside.

"Malon?" Talon said, shattering the silence, his voice grave and frightened. "Are you crying?"

"No, father," Malon murmured, wiping the droplets from her cheeks, "it's only the rain."

Maybe it was a lie. Maybe it wasn't. Through the shadows and her counterfeit romance with them, she couldn't even tell anymore.

* * *

Review Replies! Woah nelly there's a lot of them... 

...who says "woah nelly"? What is wrong with me?

**Vaati's Servant: **Thank you so much! I hope you liked the new chapter too.

**Kamikaya:** Really? On the edge of your chair? DON'T FALL OFF! Erm, I mean, thanks! I'll keep writing, but just because you asked!

**Kaelin Voidshadow:** (whispers) Oh, okay. Shh, it'll be our secret. (Knil: HEY EVERYONE! GUESS WHO'S READING MY FIC!?) Knil! Shush!

**Fenrir 666: **Well, it's not exactly a soon update. But I hope you still like it!

**Irken Illiterate: **Ha! Clever penname. Ooh, i heard that song you mentioned. You're right, it does remind me of Knil.

**shadowsasuke: **I'm sorry for all the agony on your soul! Here, here! An update! See? Things got resolved between them! Well... sort of.

**Arden: **Thanks so much! I do try to make my characters grow as the story goes on, so if you've noticed it then I guess I'm doing something right. Thanks!

**BrokenSilverSoul: **No, don't cry! (hugs) I don't mean to torture you! Look, a new chapter! See? See? Knil's back!

**Odai: **Thank you. And I hope this chapter is to your liking.

**The Legend of Soul Emblem:** Well, now you know what I meant by "it all goes to hell". I agree. Illia was basically a rehashed Malon, only not as interesting. But overall TP was a great game. I'm just sad it's over now. Knil is still psycho, but we still love him for it. I hope they don't execute him...

**Ninjachick93: **One of the best? Really? My little story? Thank you! (glomps)

**olivehue: **My story? You're too sweet! (blushes, then glomps) Thank you so much!

**Windmill Sage:** I know, isn't it a great name for Shadow/Dark Link? I actually spent so much time coming up with it. Kinda sad, huh? Hope this chapter was worth the wait!

**Ninja Froggy:** (Is drowned in a sea of sugary online goodness) Hurray! Yes, sugar is my MUSE! Thanks for the extra boost! Now I KNOW I can finish this story. BWAHAHAHA. And yes, silent K's are very nifty indeed.

**penguino latino: **(sniff) Now the premiere date for Avatar has been pushed back to September. NOOOOOOO!

**chocolateteddygrahams:** Ah yes, Equus. I should've been more specific, huh? I meant that the horse got away and Malon never really went after him. He was sort of a plot device to bring Link back into the picture, since I didn't think the saddle was sufficient enough to have him come back. I love your reviews! They're always so thorough, but at the same time fun. Knil smashing the egg was almost unforgivable, and I did want the reader to be mad at him for doing it. If that's how you feel, then yay! I've accomplished my goal! And of course, Knil has to stay sexy. It wouldn't be interesting if he wasn't! Haha. Yes, there's still plenty of sensual tension between Malon and Knil, though now I think the tables may have turned. Knil feels hurt by Malon instead of vice versa.

**xblumoonx: **Thank you! I'm glad you like my writing style. Personally I tend to get annoyed with the way I write. And I was worried someone else might have already written a story like this. Good to see they haven't.

**Demon Darkchild: **Bipolar you say? You know, I've been trying to get him to see a doctor... (Knil: Screw you!) See? He just won't cooperate.

**Arie Under Pressure: **So this is the first Dark Link-centric fic you've ever read? Uh oh, now you've put ME under pressure.

**little-chibi-girl:** Thanks for the honest extra. I really appreciate it. It seemed forced to you? Darn. I was hoping it would seem out-of-the-blue, since Knil has a tendency to just suddenly shift moods like that. Ah well, I'll try harder.Thanks!

**Mr. Tino: **(blushes) Writing skills? Hardly... I'm sure you're a lot better than you say, Mr. Modest. Anyway, thanks for the review. Here's the update. Tell me what you think...

**The Watcher and Reader:** I know! What a waste of a cucco egg! That lousy Knil and his anger issues...

**Dr. Crazypants: **... well... I never thought of it that way. No, I don't think Link's like that. Though who knows what he really does when he's "out saving the world"? Thanks so much for reading my story, and I'm glad you like it. Though... I can't really believe it's one of the best you've read... you're too sweet!

**ahou incarnate:** Yeah, low blow Malon! Haha! Well, maybe if Knil got her a really pretty diamond collar... (Malon: NO!) Fine, geez. It was just a suggestion.

**Eromancer: **Hey, you changed your penname. I understand what you're saying, and I thank you for all the compliments. Honestly though, I think part of being a writer is learning to fake what you don't know. You pretend to know what characters would do in a specific situation and how they'd react. If emotions are difficult for you to express, then the best thing to do is BS them. It may be hard at first, and the results may be... awful. But if you keep at it, I think you'll find you've developed a better grasp of them. If you ever would like me to look at one of your stories for you, I'd be more than happy to do so. Just know that, while emotions ARE central to a character, they don't have to be emotions you're not particularly familiar with. They don't have to be romantic feelings. As for the "ending" tying into Wind Waker or Twilight Princess... SHH! I already have something planned. Don't give it away!

**Hydro-Wolf:** I bet you hate Link even more now. Ah well, whatever keeps the mob away from ME.

**Baronfly:** A real-life monkey! ARG! I'm so jealous! (hugs stuffed lobster to feel better) You must be so psyched! ...did just say psyched?

**God of Static:** Looks like Knil's Master plan has been cut short. Poor, messed up Knil.

**harrynginny4eva: **Thanks!

**Blue-sama: **Thanks so much for reviewing my story! I'm honored. And don't worry, I LOVE long reviews. The longer the better, infact. I tried to give the characters some personality, and it isn't easy with characters like Malon and Knil whom we know so little about. But if you liked it, then I'm satisfied. Thank you so much!

**JosephineInLove: **Wow... thanks so much! I'm so happy you liked it! This chapter came out a bit odd, I hope it was okay...

**Axie-chan: **Don't panic! Here, an update! CLEAR! (Throws update at you)


	11. Sing To Me Your Symphony of Woe

Let's all do the update dance! (Dances) Hey... you guys aren't dancing. C'mon! Get up!

Okay, now sit back down.

Whoa... you listened to me... YOU ARE UNDER MY CONTROL! BWAHAHAHA!

Alright, now seriously. I have to explain something.

I've been getting some questions regarding the game-to-my-story timeline of this fic. Well, here's my explanation! From the presence of Malon, one can assume that this is an OOT story. And yes, this story does take place in the OOT story arc, but then how does Four Swords come in? Okay, I told you that the story does borrow from both the game and the Akira Himegawa mangas, and I think that's what caused the confusion.

For the sake of this story, let us pretend that after MM, Link returned to Hyrule and that's when Four Swords happened. It's the same Link. I know the manga has a different Link, but lets just pretend for the sake of this story. I just love both mangas (and games) so much, I had to put them together!

Now that I've begged and pleaded for your indulgence, let the update commence!

* * *

**Sing To Me Your Symphony of Woe **

The rumors erupted. All throughout Hyrule, there were stories being told about the poor farm girl who had fallen victim to the Hero's evil shadow. People told of the unspeakable things the shadow had done to the poor farm girl, and how valiant the Hero had been to battle his own shadow to rescue the farm girl.

Of course, as with most rumors, by the time the story made its way around, it was almost unrecognizable by the truth. People exaggerated, or took away from, or added to the tale. Still, the presence of the shadow in Hyrule's maximum security cell only seemed to prove the terrible gossip.

Lon-Lon Ranch was, ironically, the place to benefit most from the rumors. People began flooding through the ranch's gates, enlivened and eager to catch even a trace of what remained of the shadow.

And Malon, who once had felt so alone and disconnected from the world, had become an overnight celebrity. She could hardly move from her house to the barn without being accosted. She could hear the crowds clamoring her name outside her bedroom. When she passed by a group of tourists on her way to the fields, dozens of them approached her; spouting their false sympathies and informing her of how her bravery had inspired them to overcome some inane obstacle in their lives.

Ingo took full advantage of the situation, using their moment in the limelight to sell annual orders for Lon-Lon products, and even to peddle small souvenirs.

In fact, everything had become a souvenir! When a visitor's eye was caught by some useless little bobble, it instantly was for sale. Even more shocking, though, was how they actually _fought over_ these worthless trinkets! On one occasion a broken waterspout, which supposedly had been ripped from its socket by the Shadow in a fit of rage, sold for over five hundred rupees!

Malon was patient and took this all in stride. It was good that the ranch was turning a hefty profit, especially after how poorly it had been doing, but one thing continued to irritate her. Her father and Ingo were constantly apologizing to her. They were sorry for not having helped her when she was in need, for not even realizing what she had been going through. The visitors to the ranch were sorry too. They were sorry that the shadow had _traumatized_ her, sorry that Hyrule's court system was taking so long to punish the fiend, sorry that other people were not as sympathetic to her plight as they were, sorry about this, sorry about that. Everyone was so Goddesses damned _sorry_!

Malon was _not_ sorry. And it frustrated her to have all of Hyrule telling her how forever changed she was, how damaged she felt, how much she mourned the day her path had crossed with that of the Hero's shadow. Why did everyone else presume to know more about how she felt than she did, anyway?!

She couldn't take anymore entreats for interviews, anymore feigned compassion, anymore media martyring of her situation, anymore damn _apologies_!

She couldn't even get any work done! People were always hounding her, waiting outside her door, bringing her gifts to show _how very sorry_ they were.

It was only a matter of time before Malon reached her limits. One day, as soon as she emerged from the bathing room, her towel still wrapped around her damp hair, a crowd of tourists rushed over from nowhere and surrounded her. Journalists jumped forward, flinging questions at her left and right. Men took her hands and knelt before her, telling her just how very brave and inspirational she was. Women shoved through to get to Malon, offering gift baskets filled with all sorts of pointless things. Children, snot-nosed and wide-eyed, tugged at her skirts and cried, asking her how she stood up to such a scary monster. The crowd came closer and closer, tightening around her, still jabbering on, closing in, she couldn't breathe!

With a strangled cry, Malon pushed her way out of the crowd and fled. She ran so quickly that the towel flew from her hair. A group of people leapt onto it, fighting amongst themselves, demanding to know how much for the towel.

Malon ran until she had crossed the field, and still she continued to run, not aware of where she was headed, just as long as she got away. How long would the ranch go on like this, anyway? It had been two weeks. _Two weeks. _An entire fortnight and still people would not move on!

She came across the windmill suddenly, still boarded up. She had almost forgotten it was there. She looked at the tall stone structure, catching her breath. Taking a quick glimpse around to make sure no one was following her, Malon slipped inside.

The dim light was a welcome comfort. Malon breathed in the musty air, an unexpected sadness washing over her. The windmill had been all but ignored, the rumors had morphed the story enough to omit it all together, so it had not been opened in days. The air was still thick with shadows, the hay and dust on the floor still held the imprints of a scuffle.

Malon blinked the dust out of her eyes, catching sight of something glinting in the corner behind the empty milled milk crates. She walked over and moved aside a crate with care. It was an empty bottle.

She inhaled sharply as the memory came rushing back to her. The day she and Knil had spent together, downing entire crates of milled milk…

She sat down as close to where she had been sitting that day as she could remember. She took the dusty little bottle in her hands and held it, inspecting it absentmindedly. He'd been so _agreeable_ that day. She'd actually liked him.

A laugh escaped Malon's throat as she recalled how she had given Knil his name in the first place. He had acted so reluctant to accept it, yet she hardly had to insist. Deep down, he must have really yearned for a name.

Malon wiped the dusty glass with the hem of her skirt, wondering if he had drunk from this particular bottle. Perhaps it had been one of hers, though she wished it wasn't. She wanted it to be his. She wanted so _dreadfully_ for it to be his.

Malon clutched the bottle to her chest abruptly, rocking it, a substitute for the shadow she could not hold. She could not help herself from sobbing. What was going to happen now? Surely the excitement within the ranch would eventually fade, but what about Knil? Would he really be killed? How would they manage it if he could not be killed? Would they know about his weakness and use the Master Sword?

And what would Malon do? After Knil was eradicated, after the buzz in the ranch died down, was she supposed to go back to the way she was before? Was she expected to resume her routine chores and continue daydreaming about being swept off her feet by a prince in shining armor? Would she wish for Link's love again?

She couldn't do it! She could never go back to the way she was! She simply wasn't that person anymore! She could never again even _think_ of Link without relating him to his shadow!

Malon cried out, flinging the bottle away from her with all her strength, watching as it shattered into a thousand pieces on the opposite wall.

They couldn't do this! And who exactly were _they_ anyway?! Who decided what became of Knil and, indirectly, of her?

Malon looked down at the shards of glass scattered in the hay. They glistened in the meager light, looking almost like diamonds, casting the illusion of a crown… or a tiara.

"Princess Zelda…" Malon breathed. She was the only one who could help her now. She was the only one who could save her, by saving Knil.

It was dark and fogged over the next morning. She had to escape before the crowds arrived. Donning a worn, brown cloak and pulling the hood over her braided hair, Malon made her way to the stables.

She could have taken any horse, but by the time she arrived at the stables, she realized she had already made up her mind to take Equus. The poor horse had been badgered by sudden fame, just as she had, the rumors involving the horse with the Shadow.

"Shh… good boy." Malon cooed, patting the horse's side. Equus whinnied in response, nuzzling Malon's shoulder. The old pinto seemed at ease, Malon realized happily. He sensed no evil within her, she wasn't tainted. Maybe then, just maybe, everything really would be alright.

Malon worked quickly and quietly, gathering up any supplies she might need for the trip in a small leather pouch, which attached to the saddle she had picked out and straddled on Equus.

Apprehension rose up in Malon's chest, but she chased it out. She couldn't question herself now; otherwise she'd never even leave the ranch!

Steeling her courage with a deep breath, Malon mounted the old horse and dashed out of the stables at full gallop. The passage to the exit was narrow and, in her hurry, Malon narrowly missed colliding into a tree. But confidence was on her side at the moment, and Malon took full advantage of it. She rode at top speed; out of the ranch, into the chilling dawn air of Hyrule field, and towards the luminous castle in the distance.

The sun was full in the bright, morning blue sky. The fog had since dispersed, leaving a cleansed ambiance about the fields. Malon breathed deeply as she arrived at Hyrule Castle Town's gates. It had been so long since last she had come, she had forgotten just how tall and imposing those walls could be. But she refused to turn back now! Nodding to herself, Malon dismounted, leading Equus by the reigns to a tree near the river. She tied him there securely but loosely enough for the horse to graze or take a drink. Malon reached into her pouch and withdrew a few sugar cubes, rewarding Equus for his exhausting efforts.

Then, turning back to face those dauntingly tall gates, Malon marched onward. She was almost there; all she had to do now was get an audience with the Princess. How hard could it be? After all, Link had managed to do so when he was _ten_, and fresh out of the forest no less.

Malon crossed the drawbridge, her boots making hollow thuds against the wood, then clacking against the cobblestones on the other side. Just beyond this passageway lay the hustle and bustle of the marketplace. Malon remembered it well. This was where she had first seen Link. They had said not a word to each other; Malon doubted he had even noticed her. No, he'd been too busy scurrying around on some secret agenda, a ball of light with wings following behind him. He was such a sight to behold! It was no wonder the memory stayed with her, as insignificant as it was.

The closer Malon came to the end of the passage, the louder the roar of the crowd became. She could hear the warbling notes of traveling minstrels, singing stories and praises of the Hero's escapades put to catchy melodies on lyres and pennywhistles.

She turned the corner and was instantly immersed in noise and color. A man burly man, lugging several heavy sacks of grain for trade, shoved Malon as he made his way through. Malon caught herself on a cart of masks, shaking her head at the man's carelessness.

"Care for a mask, beautiful mistress?" said a disconcertingly chipper voice behind her. Malon turned to see a man of indiscernible age, pale and fine-haired, rubbing his hands together manically, his face stretched into a permanent tight-lipped smile.

"Pardon me," Malon queried curiously, remembering a building from her youth, which seemed to have disappeared from the marketplace, "didn't there used to be a store which sold masks around here?"

"Ah yes, the Happy Mask Store." The anomalous man nodded, rubbing his hands together more quickly and roughly. "Closed down, I'm afraid. I ran into some trouble with the Hero, regarding a strange mask. Kukukukuku…" The man trailed off, chuckling in his uniquely unsettling manner.

"I… see…" Malon tried to excuse herself, but the suspicious man continued.

"You know him personally, though, don't you beautiful mistress?" He chuckled again, his smile widening forcibly.

"Forgive me, I'm not sure who you're referring to—"

"No, the Hero was not fond of Majora's Mask. Though, what would a forest child know of native tribe history? Yes, even the Hero is limited to his own masks." Malon opened her mouth to ask the man what he meant, but he interjected. "Not masks like the ones I sell, of course, but the ones we all possess and acquire through our lives. The ones we use to deceive others and protect ourselves. And often times, though we be unaware of it, we deceive ourselves as well."

Something about his cryptic message struck a chord with Malon, though she couldn't say what it was. She didn't quite understand.

"So I ask you, beautiful mistress, though you appear as sweet and pure as virgin snow, why is it I do not address you as _lovely maiden_?"

"I don't… I couldn't possibly kn—"

"Don't be so quick to deny knowledge." The suspicious man chuckled again, sending chills up Malon's spine. "It is your mask. The one you wear without notice. Though you do not wear it to deceive the world, only yourself, you know better. Lovely as you may be, you are no maiden."

Malon caught his meaning and flushed, looking around to make sure no one had heard such improper allegations.

The strange man only chuckled in response before continuing. "Mistress to the Shadows, do you really think the Princess—the very embodiment of light herself—will not see through to your true nature?"

Malon clasped her mother's brooch. What was this frightening man insinuation? Did he mean to say she was an instrument of darkness, here with only evil intent? Or was his meaning less black and white? Perhaps he did not mean that she was necessarily evil, but that she did harbor a secret purpose.

And did she…?

"It sees everything." The anomalous said, holding up a white mask with a red eye and teardrop engraved into its surface. "Only fifty rupees! A real bargain!"

Malon blinked in confusion, standing perplexed before it all sunk in. His entire monologue, as shrewd and insightful as it was, had been nothing more than a sales pitch! Scoffing in distaste, Malon turned and walked away from the mask cart.

"Wait!" The man called after her, his voice still disconcertingly chipper. "For you, beautiful mistress, only forty rupees! A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity! You can't put a price on the truth! Thirty-five rupees? Come back now and I'll even throw in…" his voice faded as Malon made her way through the crowd and closer to the castle.

The encounter with the Happy Mask Salesman had shaken her, but Malon pushed it out of mind. No wonder the shop had been shut down. The man was obviously an absolute deku-nut!

Malon sighed. If getting through the marketplace had given her so much trouble, how was she ever going to make it through the castle? But Malon refused to be discouraged. Knil needed her now. She had to be strong, even if she didn't believe herself capable of such strength. She had to tap into a reserve of bravery which she didn't have. And all for Knil's sake, who would almost certainly never do the same for her if she was in his place.

Nonetheless determined, Malon hurried up the steps to the castle pathway.

Two stern looking guards stood outside the castle gates, each with spear and elongated shield in hand. Malon approached them with her sweetest, most unsuspicious smile.

But for however determined and sweet she may be, Malon was met with only resistance.

"Apologies, milady," the guard to the right said, "but security is a little tight nowadays. What with the Hero's evil Shadow being held in royal custody, and the Princess being a prime target for Hyrule's enemies."

Malon put on her best pout and pleaded helplessly with the guards, to no avail. For while they found her beautiful and endearing, she was no match for their princess. Zelda's safety came first.

"We can, however, put in a request for you." Said the guard to the left, smitten with Malon's innocent charm. "It should be processed in a couple months, if I rush it through."

A couple months? By that time, Knil would be dead! She couldn't afford to wait that long!

Malon pleaded and begged, trying to make the guards understand her urgency. But the guards only apologized; there was nothing they could do. They didn't have the authority to grant a commoner access. It was out of their hands.

It was over. After how far she had come, it was over. Here she was, standing before the castle, Knil was only beyond those walls, and she could go no further! He was so close and she was powerless to reach out just those few steps to reach him.

Hopelessness took over Malon, and she turned to head back home, when a familiar young man happened to exit the castle gates.

"Mal?"

Malon did not explain to Link why she was here. She simply made it absolutely clear that she most definitely _must_ speak with the Princess immediately. Link, though suspect of her behavior, kindly offered his aid.

As the Hero of Hyrule, Link was granted instant access to the royal family at all times. It took little effort to convince the guards and the court to allow a friend of his an audience.

Link escorted Malon through the lavish corridors of the castle, all the way to the throne room. Malon gaped in awe. The throne room alone was as vast as her entire house!

Link regarded Malon's reaction with stifled mirth. "I know." He said in assent. "It still amazes me too."

Amazement couldn't even begin to describe it. The pristine marbled floors, the snow white walls reaching up high to an arched ceiling seemingly among the stars, and the splash of incandescent colors raining down on them from stained-glass windows. Goddesses, the windows alone! They hung high up on the walls, tops brushing the ceiling, yet even from that distance they were obviously massive. Each window, at least seven feet tall, made up of swirls of painted glass illustrating legends of the Sages and other such figures of Hyrulian lore.

Malon stood in the colored light of a particular window, depicting a shadowed figure; a Sheikah. At first glance, she reminded Malon of that mysterious boy with the harp who had come to Link with news of the Princess, so long ago. But upon closer inspection, the Sheikah woman's blood red eyes and piercing stare evoked the image of another…

"Malon." Link came up behind her, bringing her back to reality. "Come on, she'll be here soon." He led her back to the center of the room, where a thick, crimson carpet rolled out from underneath the thrones and down the room. The edges were not the least bit frayed, but embroidered with golden thread.

The thrones themselves were breathtaking, off-white and handcrafted from—was it ivory?—with precious gems and metals encrusted into its finely polished surface. Did people really live like this?

A boy in long robes, which seemed far too large and lavish for him, entered the room then, carrying a scroll and announcing, "Her Royal Majesty, Light of Hyrule Kingdom, The Princess of Destiny, Zelda Hyrule!"

The boy bowed and exited. Malon regarded the entire scene with curio. What was the point of such an introduction? Wouldn't simply stating the Princess' name be enough? Surely everyone in Hyrule knew who she was.

"Malon!" Link whispered urgently. Malon turned to Link and found him, strangely, on his knees. Link gestured for Malon to join him on the floor. Malon obeyed, feeling her knees grow weak from nerves anyway.

The carpet was soft and plush beneath her. Malon absently stroked the velvety material with her fingers, wondering how such a fine material could be used for people to habitually _step on_.

"Avert you eyes until she addresses you." Link whispered. Malon nodded, having already been busied with inspecting the carpet's fine embroidery.

The clang of heavy double doors of iron and wood being opened resounded through the room. Malon grasped the carpet, tremors of unease overtaking her.

The doors shut with a heavy thud, which echoed for minutes after. The racket of heavy chain-mail uniforms filled the room as guards filed in and lined up against the walls. Then, nothing but the sound of delicate footsteps against the marbled floor, moving towards them.

The footsteps stopped. Malon's blood roared in her ears, where was the Princess? Was she standing close? How close? Was she watching her, inspecting her, evaluating her? Malon trembled with both panic and burning curiosity, yet she dared not look up. Was the Princess truly as discerning as the rumors held, as the mask salesman had claimed? Could she see through Malon, see the farm girl's deep-seeded resentment towards her?

A simple, graceful intake of air, she was preparing to speak! Malon held her breath, waiting.

"Hero of Hyrule," sounded a beautiful, elegant, clear, feminine voice, "please rise." Though her speech was refined, slightly accented and well-polished, her voice held obvious strength and authority. Malon quivered in submission.

She could feel Link stand beside her, though she still dared not look up from the floor. He shifted his footing as he stood, seeming to bow.

"What brings you? Our previous congregation was naught but an hour ago. Pray tell, doth it concern our Hyrule's wellbeing?" Her speech was eloquent, precise. Every syllable enunciated perfectly, every word formed and flowed out neatly, not a sentence wasted.

"Princess," Link began, straightening and walking towards the thrones, "I admit I did not expect to return so soon. But I bring before you now, the farm girl who endured my Shadow's torment." Link paused, then added as an afterthought, "And a personal friend of mine."

The Princess said nothing and if she replied without words, Malon could not see.

"Malon." The Princess said finally. Malon stilled, the Princess knew her _name_? "Please rise." She said invitingly, as if it was a request and not an order.

Malon tried to move, but her body refused. She couldn't get herself to unglue her eyes from the carpet, let alone stand! Malon panicked, she couldn't keep the Princess waiting! What if this angered her? What if the Princess viewed Malon's disobedience as a betrayal to the crown and had her executed? What if she had the ranch taken from her family? What if—Goddesses, she felt faint!

"Come," said that same serene, accepting, lovely voice, "be not afraid."

Malon swallowed thickly, willing herself to move. The Princess was not angry, she was patient. Then why was Malon's body still refusing to budge?

Those same, delicate footsteps came towards Malon. The sound of ruffling skirts beside her alerted Malon; the Princess had lowered herself beside her!

"Come off the floor." The Princess said amiably, kindly, placing a deft hand on Malon's trembling little head, caressing the farm girl maternally, brushing back a few unruly strands of brown hair.

Malon bit her bottom lip and, slowly, peeked up at the gracious woman beside her. Sparkling violet-blue eyes, filled with warmth and understanding, with strength and wisdom, and also with a hidden sadness, smiled back at her. They were kind eyes, like Link's, but they held a reserved, hardened crystal quality that Link's did not. Creamy, smooth, milky skin—tinted pink at the high-boned cheeks—held the lovely crystal eyes in place. And small, cherry cupid's-bow lips smiled ever so slightly, held firm.

Princess Zelda was beyond beautiful. Malon was beautiful. No, Princess Zelda was… was there a word for what she was? Gorgeous, radiant, ravishing, stunning; words seemed too vulgar to apply.

And yet there was a contrary air about her. She was fragile and feminine in appearance, and carried herself as such, yet there was such a strong, _powerful_ ambience about her, as if this angelic lady could easily topple the most fearsome warrior—if pushed to do so.

She was warm and inviting, sweet even, her eyes shining with a deep, poignant compassion. Yet those very same eyes were hardened—Malon had likened them to crystal on first sight—as if they had seen terrible things and had grown cold, accustomed.

Malon didn't know what to make of any of it. She could only stare dumbly, in awe, at the goddess of a woman before her.

"Um, Malon?" Link said awkwardly. "Tell the Princess why you're here." He coached.

Malon looked over at Link, standing near the thrones. He seemed worried and kept shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Malon nearly laughed out loud. He looked like a little boy trying to impress a pretty friend!

Then again, maybe that was exactly what Link was.

Malon barely noticed the multitude of guards lining the room's walls, standing so still they might as well have been statues. She turned her attention back to the Princess, who stood—ever graceful in her movements—and motioned for Malon to follow suit.

Malon stood, dusting her skirts out of habit, before remembering where she was and apologizing. She didn't mean to imply that the castle floors were dirty!

The Princess shook her head, only slightly, and walked back over to Link, leaving Malon where she stood.

"Perhaps it would be best if Malon was granted a private audience." The Princess said to Link.

Link stared for a moment before understanding dawned on him. "Oh, you mean, without me? But, I…"

"My intention is not to insult, hero." The Princess said calmly. "My concern is only your dear friend's comfort."

"Right…" Link sighed, one hand on the back of his neck, eyes to his boots. "Well, if you think that's best Zel—Princess." Link corrected himself quickly. Malon watched the exchange and was hit by a sudden clarity; they were acting. She would have never caught it from the Princess, but Link's slip-up was all it took. These formalities were only for Malon, for the surrounding guards, for the people. Link and the Princess were much closer than their public interaction showed. The rest was all a façade of professionalism. _But why?,_ Malon wondered.

"I guess I'll see you later, Mal." Link mumbled dejectedly as he passed Malon on his way out. He looked so much like a kicked puppy. As he exited the throne room and shut the door behind him, Malon was tempted to go after him and embrace him comfortingly.

"He'll be fine." said the Princess. Malon whirled around to face her; she had almost forgotten why she was here in the first place!

"Princess Zelda!" Malon exclaimed, perhaps a little too boldly. A few guards twitched, prepped to jump into action should the farm girl try anything unexpected.

The Princess raised a hand, instructing Malon to hold off. "Let us speak somewhere less off-putting, shall we?" The Princess then turned to the guards and addressed them sharply, "And in private."

A couple guards made to protest, but one look from their Princess and they abstained.

"This way." Said the Princess, gliding over to the end of the throne room and out the heavy double doors. Malon followed without question.

The Princess led the way to the courtyard. It was breath-taking. Not a patch of dry grass in sight, every lovely and exotic flower in full bloom. Even butterflies graced the castle garden, fluttering majestically around them. The scent of sunshine, flora, and fresh dew wafted through the air. It was enough to put even someone in Malon's situation at ease.

"This very garden is where Link and I first met." The Princess said in what might have been a wistful tone, had she not possessed such exquisite control of her speech. "We were only children at the time, but of ten years. Somehow he had managed to bypass the guards, unnoticed."

Malon looked over the beauty of the garden, trying to imagine a younger Link jumping hedges and climbing trees to reach this place. It wasn't a difficult image to conjure, but Malon could not picture the Princess as a child at all. Princess Zelda seemed somehow timeless, ethereal, as if she had always existed the way she did now and would continue to for all eternity.

"It's a shame he's never seen this place." The Princess said suddenly. Malon looked to her in question. "Knil." The Princess clarified.

"You know his name?" Malon almost gasped aloud. Just what had Knil told them? And how had they gotten him to speak at all? He had been so unresponsive when he was captured. They hadn't tortured him, had they?!

"He has not been harmed." The Princess said soothingly, reading Malon's fears. "Not for as long as he has been under my custody. He has only been restrained."

"But then, how did you know?" Malon asked, folding her hands in front of her.

"He told me." The Princess answered. "He does speak to me, despite his refusal to acknowledge any other." The Princess smiled, almost fondly, but that same concealed sadness leapt out at Malon.

"You address him as _he_ rather than _it_." Malon said softly, looking down at the sun-warmed grass beneath her.

"I do." The Princess replied, nothing more.

"Then… you sympathize with his plight, don't you?" Malon breathed, snapping up to meet the Princess' eyes, hoping against hope that the Princess had somehow seen Knil as Malon had seen him.

"Sympathize would not be my choice of words." The Princess said, moving away, over to a stone veranda near a low window.

"I don't understand." Malon stayed on the grass, preferring the familiarity of nature. "I thought you understood…"

"I understand." The Princess said calmly. "But no degree of understanding will stop the court's clamoring. They demand capital punishment."

"You mean execution?!" Malon cried out, forgetting her place. "You can't do this! You can't!"

"I can." The Princess retorted without batting an eyelash. "But this does not mean I _wish_ to."

"But it isn't fair!" Malon insisted, determined to get her point across. "How can you judge him by human standards when he has been denied humanity? Can't you see that's all he really wants?!"

"And do you care to explain that to the families of the people he's killed?" The Princess did not raise her voice, did not even frown, yet that only made her words all the more chilling. Malon was shocked silent. What could she say? No matter how she tried to excuse it, Knil had done horrible things. He did _not_ deserve to get away with it.

The Princess sighed, the first sign of weakness she had shown since Malon had seen her. It seemed intentional, as if she hoped to prove to Malon that she _was_ indeed human.

"Tell me," The Princess began, her voice as clear as a fine glass bell, "if not to death, then how would you have me condemn him? For surely even you agree that he should be punished."

"I do." Malon whispered, surprised with how soft and frail her own voice sounded.

"If it is a question of humanity, then how exactly does one define humanity?" The Princess looked to Malon with a critical eye, awaiting a response.

"I… don't know."

"That won't do." The Princess said, not unkindly. "If you hope to save his life, then your argument _must_ stand strong. How does one define humanity?"

Malon looked to the floor, her brow furrowing. What was it that made someone human? Their appearance? Intelligence? Free will? Love? Which cliché would hold up?

"I suppose…" Malon licked her lips and cleared her throat, willing her voice to hold out. "I suppose humanity is defined by a being who knows, or can be taught, right from wrong. A being capable of holiness."

The Princess smiled, just slightly, offering this simple encouragement before continuing. "Well done, it is a good definition. But one must ask, then, if we are to define humanity by ability for holiness, then what is holiness?"

Now Malon bit her lip. She had always known what holiness was, being devout to the Goddesses, but she had never really thought about it. She had never attempted to put the vague idea into words, and now she feared that if she could not, Knil would be eradicated.

"I suppose… holiness is… something like this, what you're doing." Malon said unsurely, not quite certain of what she meant to say. "Prosecuting the guilty, even when it's hard, that is holiness."

"Perhaps," said the Princess, "but dear Malon, that is an example, not a definition."

It wasn't enough. Malon gripped her skirts in frustration. She couldn't do this! She wasn't clever or smart or quick-tongued. But she couldn't stop. She feared that if she stopped, Knil would die.

"Holiness is…" Malon took a deep breath, willing her own mind to think of something, _anything_, "Holiness is… it is what the Goddesses love."

She looked to the Princess; surely that was an excellent definition. After all, the Goddesses had created the world to be a holy place. It was only reasonable that they would love it.

The Princess did not agree. "Holiness is what the Goddesses love, you say. And perhaps this is true. But then one must ask, what if the Goddesses disagree? What is loved by Din may be frowned upon by Nayru. What is loved by Farore may be of no consequence to the former pair."

"Then holiness is what all the Goddesses love!" Malon amended quickly. There, she had done it! No argument could be made against so clear and righteous a definition! …right?

"Excellent." The Princess praised Malon's quick logic, but it was still not enough. "Let us investigate this further, then. Is something holy because it is loved by the Goddesses, or loved by the Goddesses because it is holy?"

"It is loved because it is holy." Malon didn't know what the point of this line of questioning was. What was wrong with the definition now? What possible flaw could she have found?

"But Malon," said the Princess, "if holiness is equivalent to being loved by the Goddesses, and something is loved _because_ it is holy, then what is loved by the Goddesses is loved because it is loved."

Malon stared, completely lost among the Princess' reasoning. This was all getting to be too much for her limited intellect. She just wasn't capable! She couldn't keep up!

"Malon, listen," said the Princess, patiently explaining, "The holy is holy because it is loved by the Goddesses. But it is loved because it is _worthy_ of being loved." Malon nodded, straining to grasp the concept. "So being loved by the Goddesses is only a characteristic of holiness, not its essence, and thus not its definition."

"So then… holiness is what is worthy of being loved by the Goddesses?" Malon asked sheepishly.

"It could be argued, yes."

"Then maybe, holiness is what is morally right. Or at least a part of it, for what is morally right is not always holy." Malon said, uncertain of her own words, even as she spoke them.

"Very well." The Princess smiled, more openly. She was pleased with Malon's effort. It showed just how important the Shadow really was to her. "Then if holiness is a part of what is morally right, then which part of morally right is it?"

Malon paused for a moment, thinking her answer through before replying. "The part that attends to the Goddesses, of course."

"Attends to the Goddesses?" Had she not been so well-mannered, Malon was certain the Princess would have arched an eyebrow. "How curious, that one would attend to the Goddesses. For what reason would one need to attend to the Goddesses. Surely you don't mean to imply that the Goddesses require improvement."

"No!" Malon blurted out her response, not thinking of who she was speaking to. "I meant attend to the way a servant does to a master."

"But to help them do what?" said the Princess.

Now Malon really was lost. What could she possibly answer? If she was to say that holiness was serving the Goddesses, then what did the Goddesses need to be served? What could a lowly mortal possibly offer a Goddess?

"Perhaps… holiness is…" Malon licked her lips again, she was becoming very thirsty from all this, "It is _learning_ to please the Goddesses."

The Princess looked at Malon apologetically. She was about to tear all her hard work to shreds. "To please the Goddesses would require knowing what would please them, what they love. Therefore holiness would be what is loved by the Goddesses."

Malon couldn't believe it. They were back to the same damn beginning point. The investigation had gone full circle, and for nothing! It was impossible to clearly define holiness! There was just _no way_.

"And now you see my quandary." The Princess said, approaching Malon once more. "How do I spare judgment on Knil, under the pretense of unique circumstances impeding his humanity and therefore holiness, when holiness can not even be defined?"

Malon broke their eye contact. What was she supposed to say to all that?

"But I have pondered this impasse, long and hard. My nights have been sleepless since his arrival, and my days filled with study and retrospection," The Princess put a dainty hand upon Malon's shoulder, seeking her eyes, "and I have found a solution."

Malon's breath hitched in her chest. There was a way? Knil could be saved? The dilemma, the apparent impossibility, the Princess had solved it all?

"I have prepared an offer that will allow him to live as a Hylian." The Princess' comforting gaze then fell, that contained sadness returning, "But if he were to accept it, he would have to abandon something very important to him; his pride. I fear Knil would rather suffer the consequences than abandon his foolish pride. But what can one expect, when his pride is all he has had to sustain him for so long?"

"You don't think he'll accept?" Malon could feel the tears building up in her chest, rising to her face. "Then why even bother with the offer?!"

"Because I had hoped," the Princess locked her hardened crystal eyes with Malon's liquid, teary ones, "that you, Malon, could convince him otherwise."

"Me?" Malon mouthed the word, afraid to utter her question aloud.

"Yes." The Princess exhaled, all her hopes were in this plan. She would not allow it to fail before it was even set in motion. "You love him."

It was not a question, just a statement, matter-of-fact. And as the words left the Princess' lips, Malon suddenly realized they were true.

Malon looked the Princess in the face, at her soothing smile and knowing eyes. The kindly, nurturing ambience, was a distantly familiar one. "Mother…" The tears spilled forth and Malon suddenly found herself bounding forward, into the Princess' chest, clutching desperately to her bejeweled gown.

The Princess was taken aback for a second by the farm girl's unorthodox behavior, but she caught hold of herself and relaxed, wrapping her arms around the girl's equally lithe frame, and embracing her.

"Mother…!" Malon wept openly, the scent of fine bath oils filling her senses.

"Call me Zelda." Said the Princess, stroking Malon's hair gingerly.

"I'll go." Malon said, voice muffled by the tear-stained fabric. "I'll speak with him. I'll persuade Knil.

* * *

To any nerds--erm, I mean "intellectuals"--out there (like me) who may have caught it, Zelda and Malon's conversation is heavily based on _The Euthyphro_. Just wanted to give a shout out to mah main man Plato! wo0t! 

Remember THAT the next time you're studying Greek Philosophy!

No review replies this time because I'm supposed to be writing a paper for said class. But dang it all, writing it all like this was just too much fun! I wonder if I could submit this fic...


	12. Deafening, Oh Will It Ever End

Ay, ay, ay. No, Zelda is not Malon's mother. (Facepalm)

I meant that Zelda reminded Malon of her mother because the Princess seems so mature and nurturing. Zelda and Malon are the same age. Sorry if that was unclear.

Alright, now that we've got that all cleared up, back to the story!

* * *

**Deafening, Oh Will It Ever End**

She followed the Princess through the lush and sun-lit corridors of the castle, until they came upon a small door. The dirty, ragged, splintered, little door stood out sharply against the pristine walls surrounding it. But despite its small dimensions, the dirty little door was heavy, with strong iron bands securing it in place.

Retrieving the key from an unseen place, Princess Zelda unlocked the door with a loud clang and opened it wide, signaling for Malon to follow. And together they descended into the black.

Malon blinked, trying to adjust to the darkness as she stepped down the creaking, unsturdy staircase. All she could make out in the shadows was the white folds of the Princess' skirts and her shining golden tresses. Malon followed the slight outline of the Princess' body, touching one hand to the damp wall to keep her balance. In the dark, her thoughts seemed all the louder inside her head, and Malon was finally able to sort through her own cluttered mind.

She loved Knil, of that there was no doubt. Whether she was _in_ love with him, however, was a different issue. But Malon did not dwell on this. At the moment, it was irrelevant what sort of love she held for Knil. What mattered was that she did love him and she had to save him, no matter what she had to say or do to persuade him.

As Malon's eyes slowly adjusted to the dark, she found the Princess' outline sharpening before her, becoming solid. Even in such lack of light, where no one could see them, Princess Zelda carried herself with such grace and authority. It was a marvel to Malon, how a girl her same age could seem lifetimes wiser and stronger. Why, just moments ago Malon had thrust herself in this young woman's arms like a bawling child. The warmth, the comfort, the strength and serenity of experience; it all had struck laden memories in Malon of her mother. And yet, the farm girl reminded herself, the Princess was her same age.

It was no wonder Link loved her. What was there not to love? Even Knil himself had opened up to Zelda, shared his name. Malon clasped her mother's brooch as a pang of jealousy rose up in her chest. For all the resentment she had held for the Princess in the past, actually meeting Zelda had annulled it. Every presumption Malon had made was shriveled in the light of truth and cast aside, to the point that Malon now resented herself for ever having thought ill of the Princess. Even the fleeting pang of jealousy left a lingering ache of guilt in its wake.

Malon stumbled as the staircase unexpectedly came to an end. She caught herself against the cool wall with a brief yelp. Princess Zelda's footsteps halted, and the sound of ruffling fabric could be heard as she hurried back towards Malon.

"Are you quite alright?" Zelda asked, concerned but calm.

Malon pushed herself upright, blinking to orient herself. Her palms felt clammy and wet. Or perhaps they were dry but just very cold. She couldn't tell in all the darkness. Wiping her hands on her skirts, Malon turned to the Princess. "I'm fine."

Malon could hear the Princess turn on her heel, before calling for the farm girl to follow. Malon obeyed, curious as to just where they were going. This couldn't be real, it was all too bizarre. But then again, Malon's life had but nothing but bizarre since the night she found the Shadow.

Still, the setting didn't make sense. Were they still even in the castle? "What is this place?" Malon murmured sheepishly.

"A secret shelter beneath the castle," Zelda replied. "It was built as a safe hideout for the royal family, should the castle ever be invaded."

"Uh huh." Malon scrunched up her nose, wondering why the royal family would choose such poor conditions to hide away in. Though it made sense, if one supposed the enemy would never expect the royal family to hide themselves in what seemed to practically be a sewer. "So… why are we…?" Malon trailed off, unsure if it was proper for her to question the Princess.

"Knil is difficult to contain." Princess Zelda answered, untroubled, stopping as she came upon the end of the tunnel. "We could not place him in an ordinary prison, he would have escaped effortlessly." Zelda explained as she—Malon assumed, since she could not make it out clearly in the dark—brandished another key. "No, for Knil we were forced to prepare…" The Princess paused, opening the door, "…customized accommodations.

Blinding white light spilled forth, illuminating the dingy stone tunnel in its entirety. Malon covered her face, her eyes burning from the sudden exposure to such intense light.

"Come." Zelda said certainly and comfortingly, leading Malon inside.

Malon slowly lowered her hands, blinking and squinting in the harsh radiance. When before darkness had obscured her vision, now light did the same. It took her a few moments before she could make out the room, and still she was forced to strain her eyes.

The room was large enough, with walls white and clean enough to rival the castle's. Above them, on the ceiling, floated diamond-shaped crystals; emitting the dazzling light. Malon looked away, eyes stinging.

The room was divided in half, separated into two parts by a barrier of iron bars. A guard stood by the bars, a shaded veil protecting his vision. It was a prison cell, Malon realized. The entire cell was white, bright, and empty; save for a trembling ball of black in the corner. Malon squinted, forcing her eyes to refocus.

"Princess!" The guard bowed in reverence.

"You are excused." Princess Zelda ordered simply. The guard exited without question, closing the door behind him.

Malon gasped, hands clutching her skirts, as she identified the tremulous black mass.

_Knil…_

With his knees drawn up to his chest, face hidden in his knees, arms bound behind his back with light-enchanted bonds, and his front body lodged as deeply as possible into the corner, Knil was hardly recognizable.

_He's shaking…_

Malon bit her lip, refusing to let herself fall apart. But he looked so fragile! It was unnatural! Even his beautiful, nearly intangible, silver hair had become solid; disheveled and stuck to the back of his neck. What had they _done_ to him?

"Come forward." Zelda said firmly, stepping up to the cell bars.

His face was hidden, but Malon was sure Knil shook his head in defiance, ever so slightly.

"Why do you fear the light so?" Zelda asked, formal but kind. "It can not hurt you. It is a childish, irrational fear."

Knil did not move, save for his trembling. Why was he so afraid if the light really could not harm him, as the Princess claimed?

Had they hurt him? Princess Zelda said he had not been harmed for as long as he was in her custody, but for how long had he been held prisoner before he was brought before the Princess? What had they done to him in the time that he awaited an audience?

"Very well. I trust you are not entirely unreasonable. I will dim the lights, but only if you are cooperative." Princess Zelda offered, her head held high in authority.

Knil said nothing but nodded, just slightly, like a frightened, mute child.

Princess Zelda waved a hand through the air, the crystals dimming into a low glow in response. "Now, come forward." said Zelda.

He didn't move right away. He only breathed deeply, struggling to compose himself.

"I asked you to come forward, Shadow!" Princess Zelda said sternly, without raising her voice. She didn't need to. "Cooperate or I _will_ reset the light."

"I have a name." He rasped softly, nearly inaudibly.

"Cooperate, Shadow!" Zelda refused to relent.

"I HAVE A NAME!" Knil cried out, whirling around and gripping the cell bars. "My name is Knil! You know this! _Knil_!"

Malon watched, hidden in the shadows of the dimmed room. He hadn't seen her yet, but the light from his bonds illuminated him perfectly for Malon to see. His face was tired, desperate, drained of all its usual mischief. And his eyes, his beautiful crimson eyes, were veiled with frustration and fear. His knuckles were rapped, his tunic torn, and as long as the light-enchanted bonds suppressed his shadow abilities, Knil could not mend himself.

Tears sprung to Malon's eyes at the sight. To think he had been in here, all alone, all this time, cowering in absolute terror, with no way of healing his wounds. Hadn't he suffered enough?

The Princess showed no sign of relenting, she pushed forward. Malon understood, Zelda knew what she was doing. But how did she do it? If Malon was in her position, she could never hold herself together.

Zelda calmly approached the bars, while still keeping her distance. "The law obliges." She said plainly. Malon listened, thinking the Princess would explain. But Knil seemed to understand, and so the Princess added nothing.

"When?" He said plainly, not even a flicker of regret or fear showing through his impassive expression.

"That is why I have come." Zelda held her head high, authoritative, but Malon swore she sensed a quiver of compassion in her voice. "Knil, I do not wish to see you executed."

"But you have no choice, right?" Knil replied with a bitter chuckle, settling down where he sat.

Malon couldn't be sure, it was so slight, but she almost thought she saw the side of the Princess' lips curve upward, just slightly.

"Quite the contrary." Zelda nodded gracefully, assuring Knil he had heard correctly. "I have come to make you an offer. One that will allow you to live as an ordinary Hylian."

Knil said nothing. He just sat still, staring into the Princess' face, trying to gauge her sincerity. When it seemed he could find nothing, he moved his head to look behind Zelda. Malon almost jumped, thinking he had spotted her. But Knil showed no sign of having noticed her, and instead returned his gaze to the Princess.

"So what's the catch?"

"No _catch_," It was incredible, Zelda could even make slang terms sound elegant, "only conditions."

"Well condition me already, _Princess_!" Knil said impatiently, spitting out Zelda's status as a sarcastic retort rather than an honorary title.

"You will work off your crimes, your debt to the country, by serving in the Hyrule Royal Guard." Zelda announced. "You will be trained and allowed the standard weapons. But use of your shadow abilities is strictly prohibited unless otherwise instructed by a commanding officer."

Knil stared in absolute silence for a beat, before breaking down into loud guffaws. "Okay, so, let me see if I've got this straight." He chortled, trying to settle his own laughter. "I've hurt who knows how many innocent Hylians, so you're punishing me to community service?"

"There is another condition." Zelda continued, undeterred by Knil's outburst. "You must surrender all ambitions to see Link killed. He is the Hero of Hyrule, and as a Hyrule guard you will support him to the best of your ability."

Knil sobered immediately upon mention of his fairer half. But the silence was brief, before the loud clang of bars being slammed resounded through the room. Knil punched against his cell bars furiously, before stopping to confront Zelda again.

"You KNOW I can't agree to that. You know I WON'T!" He raged, standing to face the Princess eye to eye. "I'd sooner rip out my own lungs—if I had any—rather than let that bastard continue his parading around the world, gathering up everyone's attention and affections!"

"And why does it bother you so that he is beloved?" Zelda asked in reply.

"I WON'T ACCEPT!" Knil screamed through the bars, avoiding the question he would not—or could not—answer.

"I see…" Zelda did not take a single step back, did not flinch. She only blinked, once, before looking into the shadows where Malon waited. "But perhaps if you allow me this one chance to make my case; I have brought someone who hopes to change your mind."

Malon stayed, taking a moment to realize the Princess was referring to her. Malon had begun to think Zelda had forgotten her altogether, but now that she was actually calling her forward…

She could do this. Knil was a prisoner; he couldn't do anything to her. And if he tried to manipulate her with his tricks, Zelda would notice and stop him. Before she could talk herself out of it, Malon took a few steps forward and out of the shadows. She looked to Princess Zelda, who smiled at her reassuringly.

"What a cowardly tactic." Knil scoffed, averting his gaze. He wouldn't look at Malon directly. "To coerce my latest victim into advocating your offer? You truly must be desperate. Low blow, Princess. How much of the people's taxes did it take to pay her off?"

"She has come of her own free will." Princess Zelda said simply, turning to Malon to take over from there.

Malon cleared her throat, staring down at her boots nervously. What was she supposed to say? "Knil, I…"

"You _what_?" He growled resentfully, still refusing to look at her.

"Let her speak." Zelda reprimanded. "She has come all this way on your behalf. She at least deserves your attention."

Knil said nothing, but stared at the wall to his left.

Malon took a deep breath and released it slowly, her hands playing with her skirts. Why was this so hard? "Knil, please…" She looked up, quailing in anxiety, and locked her eyes with Knil's resistant ones. "Please accept the offer. It is foolish to throw your life away like this over your pride." She managed to whisper.

Knil whirled around to face her suddenly, the direct and intense gaze of his eyes stealing away all of Malon's courage. "I _have_ no life to throw away." He rasped, gripping the bars that separated them as if he could tear them away. "I cannot become my own person until I have become human and killed Link!"

Malon jumped back, holding herself. But she would not quit, she couldn't. She had come all this way, earned an audience with the Princess Zelda, and even found Knil again. To quit now was inexcusable.

"Knil, please." Malon pleaded weakly. "If you do this, then I… I'll miss you." She was reluctant to expose her feelings for him; she was already vulnerable enough as it was. But if it was her only chance, then what choice did she have?

"Selfish." Knil spat, shaking his head. "Thinking of yourself, how you'll feel. What does any of it have to do with me?! I have no interest in your fickle fascination!"

"It is _not_ just a fickle fascination!" Malon cried out, her hands balling up into fists and pulling down at her sides. "I care about you." She could feel the tears coming long before they began to prick her eyes. It seemed she had been doing so much crying lately, and it was all because of him. "I really do."

Knil's white-hot anger evaporated instantly, but it was only a chilling indifference that replaced it. "You're stupid to care for me. I've been using you." He said offhandedly, unaffected.

Dread washed over Malon. The bars seemed to vanish, the Princess forgotten; Knil and herself might as well have been standing alone in the field.

"You once asked me what I wanted from you. You said you would give it to me." The blood-red glow had returned to his eyes, as had his daunting presence. It was like the first night; the first time she stared into those piercing, burning eyes, all over again. "And would you still be willing to make such a sacrifice?"

"I… it…" Malon's voice felt so distant, as if they were the words of another.

"It's your mother's brooch, you stupid stuttering girl." Was his voice growing louder? Echoing? Or was it all in her head? "That ugly little brooch is the Shade Pendant I have been searching for!"

Malon's hand flew to her chest, cradling the brooch protectively. All this time, all he had wanted… and she hadn't noticed? But it made sense now; he had mentioned it constantly, stared at it, and every time he came in contact with the brooch, it seemed to derail him. Everything he had done, everything he had done to _her_, had been all for this. For her mother's simple heirloom.

"Now isn't that peculiar?" Princess Zelda said from behind Malon. The farm girl jumped in surprise; she had almost forgotten where she was, who was there with her and Knil. But Malon settled and breathed in relief. Knowing the Princess was with her was an immense comfort.

Knil set his jaw in irritation; he seemed to have forgotten the clever Princess as well.

"If all you wanted was the pendant, why didn't you simply… take it?" Zelda said reasonably. "I am doubtful that morality was your motive for refraining."

"It isn't that I would not, but that I can not." Knil replied. "To steal the Shade Pendant would nullify its power. It's a failsafe. All the artifacts of its kind have one. The Dark Mirror loses its power if it is shattered, and the Shadow Blade's power is invalidated by the Master Sword." Knil seemed particularly bothered by the Shadow Blade's failsafe, but continued regardless. "The Shade Pendant's failsafe is more tied to whoever currently possesses it. It can only be gifted to another. If it is stolen or in anyway taken in bad will, its failsafe is activated."

Malon looked down at the brooch—no, pendant—on her chest in awe. It couldn't be. How could Knil be so sure? It didn't look magical or even spiritual. But Knil was so certain. How did her mother come to own such a thing? And did she know what the Shade Pendant really could do? And if so, had she known about the circumstances of its failsafe?

"So then, _Malon_," Knil drew out her name spiteful, "would you still be willing to give me anything?" he taunted.

Malon fingered the pendant thoughtfully before looking up at Knil and replying in a shaky, timid voice. "Then… you never cared about me at all? Not even a little?"

Knil smirked cruelly, he couldn't have wished for an easier fall into a trap. "I must admit I was amused by you." He said coolly. "But there was never affection, not even an ounce."

Malon's gaze slowly drifted down to the floor, to her boots. Her old, plain, worn, dirt coated boots. He couldn't really mean that. Knil often said things he didn't mean, didn't he?

"In fact," Knil continued, seeming to enjoy every minute, "I had planned to wait until you eventually gifted me that damned pendant. After that, well, to be honest I'd have no reason to be as restrained. I had even considered killing you, Malon." He said it so calmly, so frankly, not a hint of remorse to be found anywhere.

Malon inhaled sharply in horror. No, he couldn't mean that. He most definitely didn't mean _that_!

"Don't look so surprised!" Knil said, almost humorously. "It's just common sense when you think about it. Wouldn't your death make the perfect lure for wonder boy Link?" Knil began to speak more quickly, excitedly by his own ranting. "Just think about it! Then he'd be so furious, so blinded by _pure rage_, that his judgment would be next to… nil. No pun intended." Knil slowed, overwhelmed by his own brilliance. "He'd be all the easier to kill…"

Silence. For Malon, the world was nothing but silence. But it was a loud, roaring silence. Malon tried to speak, tried to protest, tried to insist that he was lying. But she could not even make out her own thoughts through the shrill lack of sound.

A couple tears slipped out, and Malon turned away, running. She cried as she raced away, out of the room, struggling in vain to escape the deafening silence.

Princess Zelda sighed, and though her ever proper shoulders did not slump, her disappointment was evident as she turned back to the shadow.

"Why would you lie?" She asked.

Knil sunk down onto the floor and sat down pensively as if questioning his reason himself. "It is more difficult to mourn what you hate." He replied.

Princess Zelda's eyes softened for a moment in pity, but then the moment passed and they hardened back into their usual professional, crystal quality. "You will be executed tomorrow afternoon, when the sun is highest in the sky and shadows are at their smallest. Your executioner shall be Link himself, with the Master Sword. It will be a public execution, but it will also be a swift one."

Knil nodded slowly, drifting away amidst his own thoughts.

Princess Zelda walked to the door, her high-class heels clicking against the cold stone floor indifferently. She paused at the door, considering, and spoke once more. "She really does love you."

Knil looked up at the beautiful woman who stood at the doorway, knowing this may be the last time he ever spoke to her—or anyone—again. "I had hoped not." He replied bluntly. "I've never been loved before. And, Gods know, I don't deserve it."

Zelda didn't look back into the room; she just stood at the doorway, looking out. "Gods?"

"Your Gods, not mine." Knil replied. "Her Gods."

The Princess said nothing. She stood in the doorway a moment more and then walked away, shutting the door behind her.

The light crystals brightened almost immediately.

* * *

No! Knil! Why?! (Sniffle) 

Ah well, what can you do? Except wait for the next chapter. Mwahaha!

Oh yes, review replies. Thanks for all the reviews everyone. They mean the world to me. I hope it's not too much to ask that you keep the reviews coming. I just love your feedback.

**Najexell: **Yeah, Malon and Shadow Link are not a common couple in the fandom. But I'm glad you liked it in my story! So, now that you know what the offer is, what do you think?

**iamthedreadpirateroberts:** First, your penname is awesome. Second, yeah... darn typoes. Haha. Wow, you read the whole thing in one sitting? If only I had your discipline, I'd be able to update a lot faster. Thanks so much for the review, and I hope this chapter was up to par for you.

**overlordofnobodies: **Hmm, you didn't like how Malon called Zelda mother? Sorry about that. Don't worry, it won't happen again. Glad to see the story got you so excited. Thanks! Yes, I do get summer break in college. But it's only for two weeks, so I don't think the story will get too many updates then. Don't worry though, I WILL finish.

**Topaze Fire: **YAY! You're back! (Glomps) It's alright, I understand. A few Zelda sites have gone down since TP too. Including ZeldaBlog. Oh, who will make parodies just the way Pleading Eyes likes them now?! Yeah, originally I was going to have the mask salesman say something deep and foreshadowing, but the sales pitch idea was too good to resist!

**The Eromancer:** Indeed I do!

**Meneil:** HAHAHAHA. Your review gave me this hilarious mental image of Link walking in on Zelda and Malon having a tea party with Knil. (Link: So you two have been plotting this all along?!) Yay, thanks so much for the review. I'm glad you could feel what Malon was feeling. I tried really hard to convey her situation in a sympathetic way. It seems like I did alright. Thank you!

**BrokenSilverSoul: **Noooo! Don't cry, flail, and die! (revives) Here's an update! I hope you like it! Sorry it took so long, please don't goooo. I hope you like it, and thank you so much for the review.

**ForTheLoveOfSugar:** ... (Knil: Pleading Eyes was unavailable for comment on this review)

**shadow thief wolf: **Thank you! Yes, Shadow Link and Malon are often ignored. But that's why they make such a great couple! I'm so glad you liked it. Thanks for the review. Great penname, by the way.

**The Legend of Soul Emblem: **Yes! Zelda reminds Malon of her mother. See? Someone gets it. Haha, the Happy Mask Salesman. He's... creepy. Seriously, what is he? A monster in disguise or just a creepy sales guy? Yeah, Malon finally seems to have realized her feelings for Knil. So of course, Knil has to ruin it. Sigh... will they ever be together?

**Windmill Sage: **(Knil: NO! I hate the light! Get away! Hiss!)

**Hades Daughter: **Thank you for the review! Well, here's the conversation. Didn't turn out so well, did it? Oh Knil, too stubborn. Will he ever have a happy ending?

**Ninja Froggy: **Haha. NERD. J/k. Hey, nerds make the world go round! Besides, when a nerd starts being cool like you and me, they stop being nerds. They become "philosophers" instead. Geek Philosophy? Hey, that should be the topic for my next paper. Yes, Link is a very busy hero. But sadly I don't think there will be time for a Vaati cameo. I know, I'm sad too. I'm so glad you liked my Zelda characterization. Best ever? (blush) Thank you, so much. I still can't believe people like my little story so much. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Uh, community service you say? Well...

**Odai: **I believe I replied to your review via email already. But to reiterate, yes. I agree completely. Knil is very prideful, and stubborn. But maybe there's still hope for him yet.

**JosephineInLove:** No, Zelda is not Malon's mom. She just reminds Malon of her mother. Don't worry, you're not the only one who was confused. I guess my writing was a bit unclear. Thanks so much for reading and reviewing though, even when my writing is a bit... weird and hard to understand.

**shadowsasuke: **Yay! Glad the philosophy was understandable. It sure was tough for me to understand, even as I wrote it! Here's the update, sorry it took so long. Hope you like it.

**TheWatcherandReader:** Thank you! I shall.

**Thebookwerm: **Not to fear! I have a very special ending in mind for Malon and Knil. I know what you mean about there not being enough of their paring. That's the whole reason I wrote the story.

**Spiritual Stone: **Hurray! Glad you liked Zelda. Influential and wise was exactly what I was going for. I always love your reviews. The arguement wasn't quite as funny as you'd expected, sorry... But there will be humor again! Just wait until the drama is out of the way.

**FeatherEars: **Sorry this took so long! Eep! Haha, I know. Zelda is too smart for a fanfiction. Writing her is like writing a term paper, no kidding. So I can't imagine how hard it must be to read her. But thanks for sitting through it!


	13. Your Silence Leaves Me Broken

I auditioned for a children's play a few weeks ago. It's "Thumbelina". I didn't expect to get anything more than ensemble, since I'm basically an unknown. But lo and behold, I got the part of the Swallow. It's a singing part too. Pretty nice! I'm walking on sunshine!

Unfortunately, Knil and Malon's situations are not so nice.

Not to worry, faithful readers. I promise, my ending is not one you may expect, but it WILL be a satisfying one.

Now on with the chapter!

* * *

**Your Silence Leaves Me Broken**

Even hours since the encounter, Malon's final meeting with the Princess Zelda replayed in her head.

_"He was _lying_!"_ Zelda had insisted with a desperation that did not suit her, which seemed impossibly unlike her.

_"He wouldn't lie before you."_ Malon had replied tearfully as Link led her away. _"Not to you."_

After that, it hadn't mattered what anyone said. Malon hadn't heard a word of it. All she could focus on were Knil's words, the humor in his voice, the blatant lack of remorse.

And now, even as she sat on her bed, a tattered traveler's blanket around her shoulders and a warm cup of tea in her hands, she could not shake the memory. Not even the current company could soothe her troubled thoughts.

"Mal…" Link said in concern, kneeling before her, pulling his blanket tighter around her shoulders. "I know it's a little worn out, but is it really worth the somber expression?" He said at an attempt at levity.

Malon did not reply.

"Malon, please." Link sighed, sliding back off of his knees to take a seat on the floor. "If there's anything you need to talk about…" He trailed off, waiting for Malon to pick up on the cue and respond.

Malon did not reply.

Link frowned, gingerly removing the—now cold—tea from Malon's grasp, setting the cup aside, and took her hands in his. "I'm sorry." He said, lowering his head to meet her downcast gaze.

Malon did not reply.

"I am deeply and wholeheartedly sorry." Link said, managing to catch Malon's eyes with his own. "This is all my fault, I know."

Something about his words made its way into Malon's distracted thoughts, and her head snapped up, intrigued.

"And I just wish there was some way I could take it all back—"

"Your fault?" Malon queried, interrupting Link's lengthy and depressing apology. "How is any of this your fault?"

"Malon." Link's eyes sparkled, whether from emotion or his own natural shine, Malon wasn't sure. "I don't mean to dodge my responsibility. But I don't know what to do! If there's anything I _can_ do to make amends—"

"What are you saying?" Malon's eyes widened in sudden clarity and she stood up abruptly, the tattered blanket slipping from her shoulders and falling onto the bed. "How can you possibly blame yourself for what _he_ did?"

"I should have stopped him." Link murmured, breaking their eyes contact, not even bothering to stand up off the floor.

"You _did_ stop him!" Malon said, slightly irritated with Link's reaction.

"I shouldn't have ever let it happen in the first place." Link murmured, shame evident in every his breath.

"So you're blaming yourself for stopping what you could not prevent?!" It didn't make any sense! "What kind of unfair, irrational thinking is that?"

"I should have been able to prevent it!" Link snapped, jumping up onto his feet and standing tall. "He is _my_ shadow!"

Malon stopped. Now it made sense. Link was committed to the very same misconception that Knil was. Malon looked away, considering. Of course, Knil was Link's shadow after all. It was understandable that they'd share this complex, especially if they did not realize they shared it. And how had she never noticed that behind the boyish laughter and riveting tales of adventure, how painfully alone Link was too? Irony was a terrible thing.

"He's your shadow." Malon echoed, facing Link. "But he is not you." She shook her head, forcing the teacup into Link's rough hands; coarse and calloused from wielding a blade or countless other weapons. He was as much a prisoner as Knil.

"Mal…" Link whispered, uncertain.

"You are not him." Malon smiled, holding Link's hands against the cup, as if the cool liquid inside could soothe the roughness of his hands and therefore free him from his burden. "He was born of your shadow, he came from you, but he is his own man." Malon raised one hand, brushing Link's rebellious bangs out of his face as she had been unable to do for Knil. "You can no more control him than a father can his grown son."

"Malon…"

And then, she did what she had wanted to do for as long as she had known the Hylian Hero; long before he even was the hero. Malon embraced Link.

She wrapped her arms around him and held him against her, his hands—holding the teacup—trapped between their bodies. Link responded immediately, bringing his head down so his forehead rested against hers.

They closed their eyes and said nothing, the sound of their own breathing pervading the room. Malon held Link loosely, and yet she put all her strength into trying to make him understand. She hoped, if she wished hard enough, maybe she could absolve him of all his guilt. Maybe he could finally be free of his prison. And maybe, once freed, he could accept his feelings for the Princess Zelda. Maybe then he wouldn't be lonely anymore. Just maybe…

"I love you." Malon said. It was simple, plain, not at all like the over romanticized scenarios she had imagined.

"Thank you, for loving me." And once he said it, Malon realized she was satisfied. She hadn't wanted anything more. Whatever feelings they may have shared, whatever life together they could have had, it was gone now. They were friends, just friends, and for Malon it was relieving—if not slightly anticlimactic—to realize that she was fine with that.

Malon pulled away, taking in a deep breath and releasing it. Link followed suit, though it took a moment for him to attempt a smile.

They headed outside shortly after. They did not speak much, but when they did it was only about little things; jokes and childhood memories.

When the day began to wane, Link loaded up Epona and said his goodbyes.

"I am to execute him tomorrow." Link said regretfully. "I am not an executioner. I'm not sure I can just… it's different when you're fighting, when it's fair. But to have someone lie there helplessly and just…" Link gripped Epona's reigns, checking his own emotions.

"You address the shadow as _him_ now." Malon noted.

Link smiled. "I don't know why. It seems I just picked it up somewhere." He gave Malon a friendly wink and a well-wishing goodbye, before riding out of Lon-Lon Ranch.

Malon watched him disappear into the fields of Hyrule, all the while clutching her mother's brooch in impatient dread. By this time tomorrow, Knil would be nothing.

Dawn of the next day, Lon-Lon Ranch; Malon lay in her bed staring up at the thatched ceiling. She could imagine all too well what was happening over at Hyrule castle.

Same time, Hyrule Square; the crowds were already beginning to assemble in expectation. The execution of a vicious criminal, and one that was barely alive to begin with, was quite an event. Would the shadow struggle? Would he suffer? Would he bleed? Would he even leave behind a body?

By afternoon the cobblestone floor of Hyrule Square had vanished, engulfed by the ghastly mass of Hyrulians attending. And they weren't just Hylians either. From all over Hyrule, every race and tribe had gathered in anticipation.

Princess Zelda emerged onto the royal platform, drawing a collective cheer from the throng of onlookers. Princess Zelda, expression grim, raised her hand in salutation…

Malon, expression grim, raised her hand to swat away a bothersome fly that had found its way into the room. With some effort, she managed to crush the accursed thing out of existence. Curious, though, how even such an insignificant creature left behind a carcass.

Malon settled back in her bed, glancing out the window at the high risen sun. At this time of day, the shadows almost completely disappeared…

The shadows almost completely disappeared. It was time. And not a moment too soon, the crowd was growing restless. Princess Zelda gestured for the prisoner to be brought out, as well as his executioner.

Link emerged, Master Sword at his side, drawing another roar of approval from the expectant audience. Link kept his eyes locked forward, refusing to directly face anyone. This was his duty, nothing more.

Two burly guards dragged out Knil, arms bound in freshly enchanted light bands. Link's sapphire eyes inadvertently met his shadow's ruby ones as he passed by him. It was only a fraction of a second, but Knil seized the opportunity to present his fairer half with an accusing smirk. Link could only stare. By the time he tried to retort with a disapproving frown, the moment had passed.

Knil was thrust onto the chopping block with force, held down by the two guards. Knil shifted uncomfortably for a moment, before reluctantly settling…

Malon shifted uncomfortably on her bed, before reluctantly settling on her side. She couldn't close her eyes. Every time she did, she could see Knil evaporating into nothingness. Malon gripped her pillow tightly, her knuckles bone-white…

Link gripped the Master Sword tightly, his knuckles bone-white. He looked to Zelda for guidance, for help. He couldn't do this. How could she expect him to do this? This was a part of him! As much as the shadow was a hated and repressed part of him, it was still a part of him.

Princess Zelda only nodded. Link understood. He raised the Master Sword high above his head and let it come plummeting down…

Malon let herself come plummeting down off the bed. Still the impact of the hard wood floor surprised her. It hurt. Her body felt sore and bruised where she had fallen, and yet it still wasn't enough. The momentary rush of falling and the physical pain of collision could not distract from the mental turmoil. She knew what was happening, what had probably just happened.

Knil was gone. It was too late. She had stopped nothing.

With an anguished cry, Malon raised her hands over her head…

He raised his hands over his head and onto the chopping block. It was all so quick that the guards had no time to react or detain him. The Master Sword fell, cutting away the light enchanted bonds. A low, chilling chuckle resounded from what should have been a headless corpse.

Link shifted into a fighter's stance immediately, prepared to defend against the shadow if necessary.

But Link's shift inadvertently put his left foot closer to the prisoner, casting Link's shadow every so slightly over Knil.

And in a blink of an eye, Knil's entire form dissolved into the sliver of shadow and vanished.

The crowd stood dumbfounded, unaware of what they had just witnessed. Princess Zelda stood, her gaze crossing the distance and meeting with Link's in alarm.

The shadow had escaped…

With extreme effort, Malon escaped the prison of her thoughts and tried to re-accustom herself to her old life. She carried the heavy bucket of water towards the barn, straining to ignore how this chore connected to one of Knil's past misdeeds.

It was just as she neared the barn that Link rode up in evident urgency.

"Malon!" He said, practically leaping off of Epona and running towards Malon. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." Malon said, mildly puzzled. It did not seem unlikely that he'd come to make sure she was alright after the execution. But why would he seem so panicked?

"Thank the Goddesses." Link exhaled in relief, stopping to catch his breath. "It'd be foolish of him to return here anyway. He must know this is the first place we'd look."

"Look for who?" Malon stepped closer. He couldn't possibly mean…?

"He's escaped!" Link blurted out. "You have to be careful; we don't know what he might try to do!"

"Escaped?" Malon dropped the water bucket and looked around, as if expecting to find Knil standing beside them. But Malon couldn't help but notice how bright it was. "You can't mean _him_; he won't travel in the light."

"Then he must still be near the castle." Link reasoned, nodding. "Malon, just be careful. If by tonight he still hasn't been found, I'll come back to protect you."

Malon nodded in assent, Link's shadow catching her eye. It seemed to move for a second of its own accord. Then just for a moment, Malon was certain his shadow split; the split portion rushing away into the barn. Malon's eyes widened and she looked up at Link in a panic.

"What?" Link asked, worried by her sudden shift. "What's wrong?"

Malon opened her mouth to say, but then reconsidered. "I… nothing." She said, distancing herself. "Thank you, Link. Now you should hurry back and catch him!"

Link agreed, mounting Epona and riding out of the ranch in a flash.

Malon waited until Link was safely out of sight before stepping over the spilt bucket and sneaking into the barn. She slid the door closed behind her, making sure to darken the barn as much as possible.

"Knil?" She called out bravely. He had to be there, she was certain she'd seen a shadow move into the barn. _He must have hidden himself in Link's actual shadow,_ Malon thought. Irony again; in his effort to protect Malon, Link had unintentionally brought Knil right to her.

Malon walked around the entire barn, checking every nook and cranny for any signs of Knil. But he was nowhere to be found. Then, had she imagined the moving shadow?

"Knil, where are you?" It was frightening. Inside, Malon knew this was beyond foolish. Knil had already confessed to planning to kill her. And yet, Malon knew, he could not hurt her. If he wanted the Shade Pendant, if he wanted humanity, he could not touch her. "It's alright, I sent Link away!"

No response. Knil was not there. Malon couldn't feel his hot eyes boring into her. She was alone.

Then maybe she really had imagined it all. Was she really that desperate?

Biting her bottom lip to prevent an onslaught of emotions, Malon turned and exited the barn.

It was barely late afternoon, but Malon had tried hard enough for the day. She headed up into her room and threw herself onto her bed, hiding her face in her coarse cotton pillow.

So Knil was not gone, but that didn't mean he'd return to her. She should've known he'd leave her if he had the choice. Everyone always left Malon.

"Why?!" She screamed into the rough fabric as if it held the answer.

A cool, gentle breeze was the only reply.

Malon stopped, turning to face the source of the sudden breeze. She hadn't opened her window…?

His black and swarthy grey form stood out so sharply against the daylight pouring in behind him, giving the illusion that he was glowing.

His bright red eyes were full and fierce, yet his face remained impassive and expressionless.

"Knil?" Malon barely managed to whisper, sitting up.

Knil said nothing but approached Malon slowly, placing his hands on her shoulders and easing her onto her back.

His eyes shined blood-red, seeming even to flash, yet his expression kept itself blank and unreadable. If Knil's intentions had been difficult to determine before, now they were impossible.

"Why?" Malon whispered, struggling to remember how to speak.

Knil shifted, sliding the back of his hand against her cheek. Malon expected a slap, but it didn't happen. The touch remained shockingly gentle, almost _caring_.

That familiar sparkle of curiosity had returned to his eyes, but it was different now. Though Malon couldn't quite make out _what_ was different about it.

"Kn-il?" Malon choked on her own voice as Knil slid his thumb over her bottom lip, silencing her.

No, there was definitely something different about Knil.

Gently, he smoothed back Malon's hair; exposing her throat. Then, slowly, he lowered himself to plant a soft kiss on the bare skin.

Malon gasped, stunned out of her wits by the uncharacteristic tenderness of his actions. And yet Knil wouldn't stop. He showered her with those soft, feather-light kisses. And all the while his hands ran over her body in a gentle caress.

His form was still cool to the touch, and yet his actions held an unfamiliar warmth. And he was so gentle, so tender, so unlike the forceful and distant shadow of a man he had been the last time.

Last time! As one of Knil's hands gingerly slid its way under her blouse, Malon's memory of her past experience with Knil came rushing back with a vengeance. "No!" She screamed, shoving Knil's caressing hands away and pulling herself back into a sitting position.

Knil didn't bat an eyelash. His demeanor remained serene, unreadable, baffling. He sat back, giving Malon some space to relax. When it seemed that she had settled somewhat, he moved forward slowly and took Malon's face in his hands.

Malon's eyes were so wide and full of fear, waiting expectantly for Knil to anger and twist her head off. But Knil did not anger. He drew Malon towards him, turning her head to the side, and pressed his lips to the small, sensitive spot behind her ear.

Malon gasped, equally mystified by his actions as by his patience. It was almost as if he was trying to tell her something, something he couldn't say out loud. But what was it? What possible phrase in existence could trouble Knil?

His hands moved to her shoulders, kneading the knotted muscle into relaxation. And all the while his face nuzzled against the softness of her neck.

There was such deep longing and poignant lament in his actions. But what did it _mean_? What was he trying to say?

Knil's hands glided down Malon's arms, coming to her hands. One of his hands curled around one of hers. He was holding her hand through all of this. How could such a small gesture be so simultaneously soothing and heart wrenching?

_I'm sorry?_ No, that wasn't it. There was more here than simple repentance. More depth, more finality.

Knil's free hand found it's way to the small of Malon's back and placed itself there, supporting Malon against him. He was _supporting_ her.

_I _do_ care for you?_ No, that didn't fit either. There wasn't that commitment, that assurance. If anything it was more of a supportive dismissal. But a dismissal of what?

Malon took her freehand and cupped Knil's chin, bringing him up to face her. His eyes showed nothing, none of the undeniable sentiment his actions revealed. But how could that be? How could he possibly demonstrate such newfound tenderness and admit nothing?

_He's dismissing… me?_ What did that even _mean_?!

Malon released Knil, letting him return to his ministrations. She let him ease her back down, gripped his shoulders, even facilitated his intention. She suddenly understood; his meaning clear as glass.

_Goodbye._

He really was leaving her, just as everyone always left her. Only he actually had the decency, and the cruelty, to say goodbye.

Malon's hands tightened on his shoulders, her nails digging into his pseudo-flesh. How could he do this? And _why_? After everything, he was just going to turn around a leave her here? Like nothing ever happened? But surely he must've known how it would hurt her! She loved him! She was _in_ love with him. She could accept his faults, and even learn to care for them. It wasn't just some fleeting childish affection; she was prepared to sacrifice for him. She was enchanted with the shade and enamored with the darkness. She was wrapped up in the dark with him, with everything about him! A part of her was his and would eternally be his. If she was ripped away from him now, that part of her would go with him and she would forever be incomplete. She couldn't lie to herself anymore.

She was inevitably and inexorably shadow bound.

Malon bit her tongue, letting her anger drown out her sorrow. She wouldn't cry now. No. For what could she do to stop him? If the world was intent on her unhappiness then at least she could share that unhappiness. If she was going to suffer, then at least she could assure he'd suffer with her. She would make him _hurt_.

And it was easy. All it took was one word, at the right time.

She waited, fighting to disregard how gingerly and almost sweetly he still held her hand through the ordeal, how gentle and considerate his motions remained. Malon went right along with his doings. She only had to wait.

And wait she did, until finally her traitorous body came apart underneath him, released. Malon almost smiled as she opened her mouth to call out in a pleasured moan.

"Link!"

Knil stilled above her immediately. He did not move, did not make a sound. He seemed to be questioning himself, if he had heard correctly. But when a beat passed and Malon said nothing, he pushed himself away, his black tunic reforming around him.

He stood by the window, the setting sun painting the sky a furious orange and red.

Malon sat up, readjusting her clothing. What has she done? He didn't deserve that. Of all the things he had ever said or done to her, never had his purpose been so wholly vindictive. She had nothing to gain; it wasn't going to get her what she wanted. It had only served to hurt him.

"Knil, I—"

"Don't!" He interjected loudly, commandingly. "You've said enough." He turned to face her. Now the unbidden fury was clear on his face, yet his eyes were purely pain. Oh, why had she done such a terrible, irreversible thing?! He had only been trying to say goodbye! He had done it all for her!

"Knil…" Malon stood, approaching him apologetically, but he avoided her touch. Malon accepted the rejection without complaint. She deserved it. "I never meant—"

"Of course not!" He raged. "You never meant for ANY of this to happen, right?!"

"I didn't!" Malon cried, her suppressed tears now pushing their way through.

"How convenient." Knil tsked disapprovingly, backing away towards the dresser. "Whenever you commit a transgression, it's unintentional and therefore forgivable!"

"Knil, please." She pleaded, following him to the opposite side of the dresser. "I love you!"

"Yeah! Just like you love Link, right?" He yelled, slamming his hands on the dresser top. Malon gaped, speechless. He was bluffing! He couldn't possibly know! "Oh yes, I overheard hero-boy telling the Princess all about it before the execution!"

Malon's hand flew to her chest instinctively, clasping her mother's pendant. "He told her?" she said, her voice considerably softer.

"Of course, he tells her everything!" Knil snapped, Malon's change of distress being an obvious blow to his already wounded ego. "Always so quick to concern when it comes to him, aren't you?"

Malon's grip tightened around the pendant. What was she supposed to say to that? He was only going to keep attacking her. But it wasn't like she was completely at fault either! He'd hurt her first, he'd even threatened her life! And it was all over the stupid, ugly, little pendant in her grasp!

With a pained cry, Malon tore the pendant from her scarf and hurled it at Knil with the intent to strike him. "Here!"

Knil caught the pendant defensively, inspecting it for a moment before realizing what it was and looking up at Malon in confusion.

"Take it!" Malon shrieked. She didn't care that she was exposing herself by throwing away her only protection. She really couldn't care less anymore. "It's what you wanted, isn't it?! It's the reason you've done all the horrible things you've done! Well now you have it! I'm _giving_ it to you! Happy?!" Malon turned away, showing her back to the puzzled shadow. "Go ahead, do whatever you want with it! I don't care anymore! Just leave me ALONE! Go away and just leave me the Goddesses-damned ALONE! I'm tired and I'm falling apart and I just want it to STOP! I hate you, I hate _him_, and most of all I hate that accursed pendant!"

Malon wove her fingers through her hair, pulling at the strands as she gave a strangled cry at the top of her lungs. Then she stopped, breathing ragged, waiting for his retort.

But none came.

Knil said _nothing_.

He didn't argue, didn't try to trick her, didn't protest to her claims of hatred, he didn't even mock her for her outburst.

And why would he? Why should he give a damn about Malon or what she did, now that he had what he wanted?

He was silent.

And his silence left her broken. She had expected at least one final verbal assault. Didn't he at least owed her a response, even a negative one?

A soft, gentle, cool breeze blew Malon's hair forward. Malon turned to find she was alone. He had vanished. Outside, night had already fallen. He could be anywhere by now.

And yet, even by the dim moon, there was just enough light for Malon to see _it_ lying on her dresser, unused and untaken.

The Shade Pendant lay on the dresser, where he had left it.

* * *

Gonna have to skip the review replies again. Sorry! I just have so much to do with the play now. Especially since the director wants us to improv most of our scenes, and depending on how good our improv is determines how big our parts will be.

But thank you all so very much for your reviews! The more the merrier. And I love long ones, so don't hesitate!

I must be one of the luckiest writers on this site to get so many wonderful readers and their feedback. Thanks you guys. Really.


	14. Loneliness Is Playing On My Despair

Random, but... how many of you out there know the show Malcolm In the Middle?

Because I love it. Not only because it turns the dysfunctional family into comedy gold, and retains its heartfelt core while still being cynical, but because of its relatability.

My mom is EXACTLY like Lois. Overbearing, know it all, and LOUD.

And I am the middle child, like Malcolm. Only my older brother's the family genius, not me.

Also, I am in love with Justin Berfield (guy who plays Reese).

But why am I telling you this? Because after finishing Shadow Bound, I was considering writing a spin-off series for Malcolm in the Middle called "Reese's Pieces."

What do you think? I'm not sure if I should, but I have so many ideas for it. Especially since poor Reese got so jipped with the ending to MITM. He deserves more than being a janitor!

* * *

**Loneliness Is Playing On The Strings Of My Despair**

In such a spacious room, with ornaments and royal crests and fine tapestries adorning the walls, the darkness had a ball. Shadows cast themselves left and right, forming all sorts of unrevealed shapes and nightmarish illusions. They licked at the walls, awaiting an imagination to stir and release, to produce a childishly irrational fear.

But Princess Zelda had never been one to fear the darkness or the shadows. Even as a child, with a full and free imagination, she never feared monsters or specters lurking in the dark. No, she had always known the face of true evil, and so skittering shades did not unease her.

She sat at her dresser, gazing into her vanity mirror; trying to make out her own reflection in the dark. Her eyes were clear, even in such scant light. They were tired and worried eyes, the eyes of an old woman. Zelda sighed, placing her graceful hands gently on the polished wooden surface of her dresser as she stood.

Even now, fully aware of a living shadow with vengeful purposes, it was not fear that gripped her.

"Why have you come?" She said serenely, patiently.

Silence. A heavy, embroidered curtain rustled, a cool wind running through the room. It seemed the Princess was alone.

"Are you even aware to your own raison d'être? Or do you simply act on impulse?" Zelda continued, undaunted.

Another silence, but when it seemed the Princess would not believe she was alone, the shadow gave in and stepped forward into view. "How did you know I was here?"

Princess Zelda turned, unhurriedly, to face the piercing red orbs in the dark. But she did not shrink back. Zelda stood strong, meeting his stare with equal intensity.

"Must you always reply to inquiry with another question?" Princess Zelda stepped forward, passing by the curtained window. The fluttering curtains let in flakes of moonlight as they danced in the wind, and the flakes of moonlight seem to catch in the Princess' white skirts and golden hair. The pale light filtered through her, adding to her already cherubic appearance. And her crystal violet-blue eyes only stood out all the more.

Knil kept himself covered in the shadows anxiously. How was it that she always managed to intimidate him? Even at full shadow ability as he was, even if there was nothing she could do to harm him, her mere presence seemed a manifestation of light itself. The light… he was afraid…

"You know why I'm here." Knil replied gruffly, averting his vision. "You've been waiting for me, haven't you?"

"I have been waiting for someone." Princess Zelda folded her hands in front of her, somehow managing to transform such a dainty gesture into one of power. "For whom I was waiting, that I did not know."

"Well I'm here now." Knil snarled, bracing himself for his next move. "Are you going to scream?"

"Only if I must, to alert the castle." Princess Zelda took a step forward, approaching Knil, who unconsciously stepped back. Zelda noted his reaction, understanding. "You don't have to do this, you know. You can stop. It's as simple as turning around and walking away. You can leave."

"I cannot! I tried to leave, I tried! But I cannot, it's not that simple. I have no choice!" Knil disputed, incensed, not from her lack of understanding, but because she did understand and still insisted against him.

"We always have a choice." Zelda replied, unshaken. "You've simply already resigned yourself to yours."

"Don't try to lure me into a philosophical discussion." Knil growled in what should have been an amused tone, but instead came out defensive. "I have only one purpose here."

Zelda paused, regarding Knil pensively, watching for any twitch or shift that hinted at his thoughts. "You've been to see her, haven't you?"

The mere mention of Malon brought on an onslaught of emotions that Knil was not prepared for. He nearly crumpled to the floor right then and there; bewildered at how one could feel so scaldingly _furious_ and yet so hurt and crushed by grief all at the same time. Instead he let out an anguished cry, flinging himself forward, and snatched up the audacious Princess.

Zelda let out a scream, just one; loud and punctuated, seeming planned, as he pulled her into the shadows.

The door burst open, castle guards flooding in just in time to catch a glimpse of a pair of floating red orbs as they vanished in the dark.

Morning at Lon-Lon Ranch was a quite one. Malon still turned the Shade Pendant around in her hands, examining it intensely, as if it held the answer. Why had Knil simply left it? Hadn't it been what he wanted all along? Why would he leave his humanity here with her? Was this just another intricate plot of his?

Malon could hear bustling downstairs. Ingo and her father were probably setting the table. Usually that would be Malon's chore, that is if they dined together at all in the morning. But today the ranch had a visitor. Link had come racing back to the ranch as soon as night had fallen, dead-set on protecting Malon at all costs. How could he possibly have known he was too late? He couldn't.

The fervent hero had spent the night in a chair in front of Malon's room, guarding the entrance. Or course, it was a silly gesture. Knil never used the front door. But it was all Link could do to keep Malon safe.

"Malon! Breakfast!" the distant rumble of Talon calling Malon from downstairs. Malon sighed, placing the pendant in her pocket in surrender.

"Coming father!" Malon called back, standing up and walking to the door. It was closer to lunch time to be honest, but they had all slept in that morning after such a stressful night. Ingo, Talon, and Link stressed over Malon's safety. Malon stressed over Knil's. She didn't understand most of what Knil had done, and now she probably never would. She would never see him again. Just like that, the adventure was over.

Malon shut her bedroom door behind her gently and walked down the stairs to the dining room.

Link's smiling face greeted her at the table. "Morning, Mal." He stood, pulling out the chair beside him for her.

"More like good afternoon." Malon smiled half-heartedly, taking the seat offered her and letting Link push her chair in.

"Humph, hardly any yoke in these eggs at all." Talon mused, turning from the stove with a pan full of egg. "Believe it or not, this omelet alone took nine eggs!" Link stifled a laugh, all the remainder of the egg yoke dripped from Talon's thick hands and hairy arms.

"You idiot. Can't you even crack and egg right without spilling it all over yourself?" Ingo huffed, rolling his eyes and leaning across to table to whisper to Link. "You don't even want to know what happened with the pancakes."

Link disguised another laugh with a cough, only for Talon to slap him on the back; prompting a real coughing fit.

"You okay there, Link-mah-boy?" Talon asked good-naturedly, serving the omelet.

"Fine." Link wheezed, clearing his throat.

Malon turned away from what would normally be a comical scene and looked down at her plate. Even something as ordinary as eggs brought on memories of Knil.

She closed her eyes, the fond memory of that day in the windmill made a small smile creep onto Malon's lips. Thinking of the scene from moments ago, of how well Link seemed to fit in with the simple farm folk that were her family, she wondered how Knil would take to them.

_"Ah, Knil-mah-boy!" Father would say, skillet and spatula in hand. "Would you like another pancake?"_

_"Not a chance in the dark world." Knil would reply gruffly. "I heard about what happened the last time!"_

_"Oh, Knil." I'd laugh, linking my arm with his. "Just one. I know it would mean the world to father."_

_Then there would be crash from the door, and Mr. Ingo would burst in with his pitchfork in hand. "Die, monster!" He'd shout._

"_Burn the witch!" Father would shout merrily, joining in without fully understanding the situation._

_Knil would jump up on the table, kicking the pancake-filled skillet out of father's hands and into Ingo's face._

_"Mister Ingo!" I'd protest, standing. "How many times do I have to tell you? He's not an evil spirit. He's my fiancé!"_

_A sickening squishing noise would be heard as Ingo peeled the pancakes from his face in disgust. "Right, right. Apologies, Ms. Malon. I keep forgetting. It's those glowing eyes of his; they throw me off every time."_

_"Your face throws me off, but you don't see me chasing you around with a pitchfork!" Knil would retort sarcastically, jumping off the table with his shadowy grace._

_"Oh, bugger. There go my pancakes." Father would whine, scooping up the wads of soggy bread that remained and placing them back in his skillet. "So, who'd like another?"_

_He'd say, suddenly cheery again._

_"If I didn't want them before, why would I want them now that they've been on the floor—and worse—on Ingo's face!" And although Knil's voice would be mean, he'd nudge me to assure me he was only joking. "Next time, I'm cooking."_

_"Burn the witch!" Father would repeat, still oblivious._

"Malon?" Malon's eyes snapped open as Link's voice shook her from her reverie. "Everything alright? You haven't touched your breakfast."

"Yes, I'm fine." Malon forced a quick smile. There was no use in fantasizing. Knil was gone, she was back to being an insignificant little farm girl. She would just have to accept that. "I'm not very hungry. I had a large dinner." Malon lied, excusing herself from the table.

But just as Malon neared the stairs, a crash really did come from the door.

Only it was not Ingo that burst in, but a Hyrule Castle guard panting in alarm.

"Hero!" The guard exclaimed in urgency between gulps of air. "We… finally… found… you…!"

"What's happened?" Link stood and ran to the corner, fetching his sword and shield in preparation.

"Prin… da… has be… kidnapped!" The guard leaned against the door frame to keep himself from collapsing. Link hurried to the man's side, helping him up.

"Kidnapped? By whom?! When did this happen?"

"The shadow…" The guard stopped, trying to steady his breathing before continuing. "Last night it snuck in—" he stopped to swallow, "it left this."

The guard removed a piece of parchment from his messenger pouch and handed it to Link, who took it urgently.

"We've been searching for you all night." The guard let himself fall to the floor in exhaustion. "We finally found you." The guard lay against the doorframe, resting his fatigued body.

Link's expression grew grim as he read the parchment. "Shadow." He muttered angrily, crumpling the parchment as if it was to blame. "Unforgivable. He's gone beyond going too far! He wants me to meet him, then meet him I shall! And this time, I will not be merciful!" Link threw the parchment to the ground and clutched his Master Sword for emphasis.

Without another word, Link dashed out of the house and to the horse stables Epona waited. In an instant he had mounted her and he rode out of the ranch at top speed.

Malon bent down to pick up the ball of parchment and uncrumpled it carefully. In disjointed, childish, shadow grey scrawl, read only one line:

_Death Mountain Summit. At sunset. Come alone or she dies._

Even if the message had not been delivered by a castle guard, Malon already knew who the letter was about. It could only be her. Princess Zelda.

Malon stood, dusting off her skirts. The sense of panic was strong in her chest, but Malon let it be drowned out by a tranquil sense of determination. Knil was purposely seeking out Link, even though he knew he could not win. One scratch from the Master Sword and he'd be done for.

Malon placed the parchment delicately on the table, then reached into her pocket and fingered the pendant inside. She finally understood. Knil was challenging Link with no intention of winning. He was giving up.

She couldn't let him.

With a sudden take off, Malon sprinted out the door.

"Malon? Where are you going?!" Talon called after her. But Malon paid him and Ingo no mind as she threw open the barn doors and opened the stall to the fastest horse she had ever owned, second to Epona; Ellipses.

The beautifully white, grey speckled Arabian horse whinnied in excitement. Ellipses was raring to go! Perfect…

In record time, Ellipses was saddled and mounted. Malon gripped the reigns, bracing herself. She'd have to ride at top speed, nonstop, to even have a slim chance of catching up with Link. But slim as the chance may be, she had no time to lose.

With a deep breath Malon pulled up the reigns and slapped them down.

"Hut!" Malon called, racing out of the barn, out of the ranch, so fast that she did not even notice Ingo and nearly trampled him.

As she raced through the fields, the world a blur around her, Malon could think of nothing. Her mind was completely blank but for a faint sound. Her mind had dredged up an old memory of that day she had first spotted Link running through Hyrule Marketplace. The minstrels had been playing a strange song that day…

_I feel like I've been running forever,  
So much so I can hardly breathe  
Adrenaline pumping through my veins,  
Charging me up to move on forward_

The song grew louder in her head, changing, becoming faster and more erratic than it had been the day it was played. It was unlike any music she had ever heard in her life, filled with exigency and speed, mirroring her innermost feelings._  
_

_It seems though I have traveled far enough,  
But how far is okay?  
Running out of breath doesn't mean you're weak  
It just means that you're inexperienced  
_

The trees, the landscape, even the skies were all a blur. Only a small circle ahead of Malon was visible to her, but it was all she needed to keep moving. Death Mountain was in sight, and the sun was beginning to set…

_The pure whiteness has faded away,  
Yet weakness remains in my heart  
But as long as I believe,  
I'll have the strength to keep on_

A stone in the path went unnoticed, until Ellipses tripped on it and collapsed, throwing Malon forward. Malon fell hard on the grass, her hands and knees scraped where she had caught herself. But she couldn't stop. There was no time to help Ellipses up and calm him enough so he would let her ride him again. She would have to scale Death Mountain herself! So with palms and legs grazed and raw, Malon ran up the rest of the path until she came to a wall. Licking her lips, Malon reached up and grabbed a vine to climb…

_Use your right then your left hand,  
To slash through the darkness  
Just head forth and show your power, Go!_

She reached the top of the wall and scrambled up to the landing. There, just a few meters away, stood Link and Knil. They stood off, respective blades in hand, while Princess Zelda hovered above them in a translucent black sphere.

_  
Your path isn't fake, _

Link and Knil charged, swords outstretched.

_  
The time has truly come,_

Malon ran as fast as her legs would give.

_  
Start and never look back, for the world waits for you up ahead…_

"Stop!" She cried out, jumping forward.

Her outcry caught Knil's attention, who turned to face her in disbelief.

Malon smiled. He had stopped for her. He had stopped _for her_!

But the millisecond of distraction proved fatal, as Link took the opportunity to plunge the Master Sword into Knil's abdomen.

"No!" Malon cried as she crashed into Knil, holding him tightly to her chest as they both plummeted to the ground.

They smashed into the sand and stone with a loud and full thump, but Malon did not let him go.

Knil grimaced, feeling the Shadow Blade in his hand dissolve into dust.

"What are you doing here?" Knil snarled through clenched teeth. "You weren't supposed to see this."

Malon sat up, tears streaming down her sad and blood covered cheeks. "I couldn't let you throw everything away like this."

"It's none of your concer—argh!" There was a hole in Knil's abdomen, evaporating into spirals of black smoke. When usually the smoke would reform the wounded area, it now floated up into the air and dissipated. As the smoke continued to rise, the hole continued to spread.

"Knil…" Malon wiped away her tears with her forearm so she could see him more clearly. He was fading away. Malon reached down to brush back a floating silver bang and caressed his forehead soothingly. "I'm sorry. I never meant—" Malon stopped herself. He didn't need her apologies now. "What I mean to say is, it _is_ my concern. Because Knil, I love you. And I don't mean the family kind of love I have for my father, Mr. Ingo, or even Link. I love you the way I've never loved anyone before Knil. A way I didn't know I could love someone."

Knil shifted and looked away. He couldn't deal with this. It was too much. If he had the strength to move, he would run.

"Knil, listen to me!" Malon took his face in her hands, forcing him to look her in the eyes. Those two scarlet orbs stared back at her, full of fear as she had never seen them. "I'm in love with you!"

Knil narrowed his eyes, his anger returning." What does that even mean?" He spat bitterly. The wound had spread to his chest, it wasn't stopping. He'd be nothing soon. "They're just words! You people throw them around at whim. They have no meaning!"

"They do! And I'll tell you what it means." Malon took Knil's hand and held it gingerly, mirroring what he had done for her the previous night. "I want to be with you Knil. Even if this world will never accept us, even if we have to flee to the Dark World. I'll live in the darkness with you Knil."

Knil chuckled humorlessly and with strain. "Even if I believed you, it'd still be impossible. Humans can't exist in the Dark World. If your soul wasn't consumed, then you'd be transformed into something terrible! You'd be unrecognizable, even to yourself!"

"I don't care!" Malon cried, all passion. "Let them have both worlds than. We'll run if we have to, until we find a place. And if no place for us exists, then we'll run forever!" Malon slammed her fist into her thigh, surprised when her fist made contact with something hard. She had almost forgotten…

Knil's face fell, his anger giving way to self-pity. "Malon, I… it won't work."

"It can." Malon smiled, planting a sweet little kiss to his forehead as she slipped _it_ into his hand. "Just accept this. I'm giving it to you."

Knil weakly raised his hand, looking for what Malon had given him; the Shade Pendant.

"Malon…" Knil's expression was an odd one then. He seemed almost pleased. Not only with Malon, but with himself.

And just as quickly as the Shadow Blade had dissolved into dust, the Shade Pendant fused into Knil and disappeared.

The rising smoke suddenly ceased flowing, and Knil's shadow form hardened into flesh and bone. For the first time in his existence, Knil gasped for air…

…and screamed in agony.

The hole in his chest and abdomen had become a real wound, bleeding real human blood.

He had never felt such searing pain. He couldn't breath, his abdomen burned as if it were on fire, and his chest was caving in. His limbs were being pricked with rusted needles, or so he assumed. Was there a boulder on top of him, crushing him? His eyesight was fading to black, he couldn't see.

"KNIL!" Malon shrieked in absolute horror. This wasn't supposed to happen. This was supposed to _save_ him!

Knil was vaguely aware of someone calling him, but it was barely audible, as if the voice was coming from very far away. Still, he recognized the voice. He'd recognize her anywhere.

With what little breath he could draw, Knil tried to rasp out her name, "Ma—" but a viscous, metallic tasting fluid spurt out of his mouth, drowning him.

"Blood!" Malon cried, tightening her grip on Knil's hand, trying to keep him with her. "Knil, don't! Don't go! Please! I love you!"

Just as the light faded from his eyes, a bright light exploded before Malon. Malon shielded her vision and looked again, only to see a bright beam of light spread over Knil before jettisoning up into the sky and expanding. Then, it was gone.

Knil was gone.

Malon could only stare up numbly into sky. She didn't even notice the black sphere fade away, and Princess Zelda hover down to the ground.

Link ran to Zelda's side, ensuring her safety. Zelda assured Link she was fine, bringing the frazzled hero's attention to the distressed farm girl.

"Mal?" Link said, starting towards Malon. But Zelda took his shoulder, shaking her head.

"Give her a moment." Princess Zelda said sadly, mourning the outcome as deeply as Malon. Such was the curse of Princess Zelda. The suffering of her people was her suffering. A tear slipped down her perfect, rosy, porcelain cheek. Link took note and wrapped his arms around the Princess, hiding her face in his chest comfortingly.

"Why?" Malon murmured, staring down at her blood-stained hands and skirts. His blood. She felt herself begin to tremble with the force of coming tears. Slamming her hands down into the ground, her nails scraping against the stone and digging into the sand, Malon threw her head back and screamed. "WHY?!"

* * *

... I don't know what to say.

(cough)PleaseTellMeWhatYouThinkAboutTheReese'sPiecesIdea(cough)


	15. Another Haunted Lullaby

Okay, so, apparently a lot of you weren't too fond of the last chapter.

I'm sorry! I hope this one makes up for it.

Just got back from AX. It was... quite an experience this year, that's for sure.

Anytime I met a Zelda fan though, I couldn't help but wonder if they'd read this story.

I guess no one would expect me to be an author of this type of fanfic. I'm so small and I run around singing at random.

Still, its weird to think that there might be people out there who admire your work, and they'd never even know they were speaking to you. Or you to them for that matter.

(Shrug) Ah well. Que sera sera. On with the chappie!

And a special prize to **Windmill Sage** for recognizing the song in the last chapter! Hurray! (Throws confetti)

* * *

**Another Haunted Lullaby**

It's strange—surreal—the way the world changes after such a tragedy. Nothing looks quite the same. Memories of the past are now impossible to recreate, or even attempt. Sometimes one wonders if they even happened at all. And yet nothing changes. The world doesn't stop for one tragedy. The sun still rises, the moon still sets. The cluck of hungry cuccos sill greeted her each morning. The rain still fell when the sky was overcast. A butterfly landed on a flower, and then flew away just as quickly. Not a second thought. All fleeting and yet unchanging.

It's interesting—inexplicable—the way time passes after such a tragedy. It's almost as if time is slowing down. Everything takes longer, is harder, and you feel that you'll never reach the end. And yet, at the same time, the days seem to fly by. How could it have been yesterday that he vanished, when it felt as if she had seen him just an hour ago?

And how did one day turn into a week? Then a week into a month? When did one month become six months? And why was it, that every time she turned a dark corner, even though she knew better, her heart jumped in her chest, expecting to find him there, smirking mischievously?

Was it deceit of the mind or of the soul that had diluted her into believing he had really existed? It couldn't have happened. It was too dream-like, too _cruel _to be true!

But then why did she carry such incurable mourning in her heart, as if she had lost a vital part of herself?

Link never came to the ranch anymore. Not ever. Malon didn't wonder why. She had all but told him to never return, that she never wanted to see him again. It wasn't because she blamed Link for what had happened; she didn't blame him at all. Rather, it was because she could not stand the sight of him. The similarities were too many. It was just too much. She wasn't strong enough to look Link in the face without a part of her praying to the heavens that somewhere inside those cerulean eyes, a pair of matching crimson ones stared back.

She did not sing anymore, she hardly even spoke. But neither did she cry. It felt as if the part of her that could cry had been brutally murdered, and she didn't even have the strength to miss it.

She was numb, cold, and silent; going along her chores without any thought or motivation. She might as well have been an enchanted item, fulfilling its purpose without any conscious mind directing it.

She didn't even wonder what had happened to his body, what that bright light had meant. It didn't interest her, for no matter the answer, it wouldn't bring him back. Why waste her effort thinking about it? Or about anything, for that matter? Did anything really matter?

Probably not.

No matter what the Princess said.

"_Do you really believe that he's utterly ceased to be?"_ Zelda had asked of her. _"Is it that effortless for you to ignore the signs? To shut away the possibility that he may still exist somewhere, in some form?"_

Malon hadn't replied. It was futile. After all, it didn't matter what she believed or how easy it was for her to continue on believing. It wasn't going to bring him back.

_"And what if he needs your help?" _Zelda had added, struggling to draw a response from the now stoic girl before her. _"Are you just going to turn your back on him, because it's more painful to hope?"_

Malon had said nothing. She had simply stood, indifferently turning her back on the astounded Princess, and walked away.

It had been intolerable insolence on her part, punishable as treason had the Princess seen fit to charge her. But to Malon, it didn't even matter. It wasn't going to bring him back.

_It wasn't going to bring him back…_

It wasn't going to change the fact that the last chance she had to hold him, to spend one final night with him; she had wasted it and thrown it back into his face. It wasn't going to change the fact that she drove him to what he had done next, what he had done last.

It wasn't going to change the fact that she had _killed_ him.

_"You gave him life."_ Princess Zelda had said in her final attempt. _"If you really can't fight anymore, if you've truly reached your limits, then at least take comfort in this fact. Had you not been there, he would have ceased to be. But because of your gift, his last moments were as an ordinary Hylian. As you granted him life, so you granted him death. He is with the Goddesses now."_

But it was to no avail. No matter what words of wisdom and comfort the Princess offered, Malon's eyes clearly read defeat, guilt, silence. _If I hadn't driven him to be there, none of it would have happened in the first place._

That had been the last Malon had seen of Princess Zelda as well. And yet Zelda's words continued to ring in Malon's ears.

The promise of hope, of a tomorrow, so long as she held on just a little longer…

No. Not this time. Not ever again. There was a painful serenity in surrender. Malon wouldn't give that up. It was all she had left in her spirit to hold on to.

She was broken. And no matter how Zelda's lullaby of hope haunted her, Malon pushed it away. She couldn't hear it anymore, and even if she could, she wouldn't be able to comprehend. It had lost all meaning.

The haunted lullaby returned that night, a year since his disappearance, as Malon locked up the barn. Malon pushed it to the back of her mind, struggling to snuff it out.

And as she turned around, face contorted into a mask of pain as she struggled within herself to forget Zelda's words, a sparkle out in Hyrule field caught her eye.

Malon stopped, the haunted lullaby forgotten, staring out at the speck of light in the distance.

It was a lantern. Faraway, but clearly there. Who would be out at such an ungodly hour?

Malon's hands clenched on her skirts, the lullaby taking advantage of her distraction to spread over her; to grow loud and unrestrained.

She wanted to hope.

She wanted to believe.

She wanted against reason, against that painful serenity, for it to be him!

It _had_ to be him! She was already running out of the ranch, through the fields.

It _had_ to be him! Because if it wasn't him, now that she had let herself hope it was, she was certain she'd die.

She hardly noticed the chill in the night air, or the cool grass dew soaking into her boots as she ran towards the light.

Maybe she was already dead. Maybe…

There was a carriage up ahead, with two reigned horses resting in front of it. And there was the lantern, hanging on the side of the carriage's awning, fully lit.

Malon halted as she reached it, looking around expectantly, her labored breathing and the soft chirping of nocturnal nature her only companions.

There was no one.

The carriage had been abandoned.

He wasn't there.

She'd believed wrongly.

Malon felt the eager expression fade away, replaced by anguish.

Something warm and wet slid down one cheek, then the other, becoming instantly cold as it touched the frigid night air.

For the first time in one year, since he had vanished, she let herself cry. She opened her mouth and she bawled, unabated, holding nothing back. She screamed and she cried, and she stamped her feet, and she flung her fists, and she didn't even bother to wipe away the tears.

"WHY?!" She raged at the Goddesses, eyes shut tight as she trembled violently from the force of her own grief. "What kind of merciful Goddesses would allow it to happen?! Why would you do this to him?! Why would you do this to ME?!" She shrieked with all the impertinence of a spoiled child, not caring what she said or who heard her say it. "At least now his troubles are over! But what about ME?! After how faithful I've been to you! What am I supposed to do now?! He was right! You're nothing but LIES!"

"I'm pleased you finally see things my way." Said a mocking voice from nowhere, silencing Malon's outburst. "But you really should keep it down. You'll wake someone."

Malon hardly dared to look, fearing she had imagined the whole thing and would find him absent. But with great determination, she managed to open her eyes.

And there he was, sticking his head out of what she had assumed to be an empty carriage, smirking in amusement.

_Knil…_

Her legs moved forward of their own accord, her mind still too shocked to process what she was seeing. And just as the reality began to sink in, Malon held her arms up to Knil.

And she slapped him.

Knil fell out of the carriage, managing to barely catch himself on his feet, and raised an eyebrow at Malon. Was she _crazy_? What was _that_ about?

"You left me…" Malon sniffled, the anger in her expression melting away as the quiver in her voice gave her away. "You left me… all alone. I told you I loved you and you left me!"

Knil's eyes softened, the emotion slipping into them easily now, he didn't try to hide it. He approached her, gently bringing his arms around her smaller frame and pulling her into his chest. Not roughly, not lustfully, just… gently.

"I'm sorry." He said, sincerely. It was the first apology he had ever given, and he had never meant anything more.

And it was all she needed to hear to know this wasn't a cruel dream. She brought her hands up and clung to his shirt—which she noticed was frayed and poorly stitched; real clothing, not a mass of shadows—desperate to keep herself close to him.

"I didn't mean it!" she cried into his shirt, feeling it grow damp with her tears. "When I said his name… I didn't mean it! I was trying to hurt you. I wanted you to suffer! I just didn't want you to leave!"

Knil stiffened as she reminded him of the night she had called out Link's name instead of his. It wasn't exactly a memory he treasured, but there was no changing the past.

Malon felt him go rigid and tightened her grip on him. She didn't care if he was angry, she didn't care if he struck her. She just didn't want him to storm off and leave!

But Knil did not push her away. He did not berate or insult her. He didn't even raise his voice. Instead he relaxed and ran a hand through her hair, feeling his fingers catch in its knotted imperfections. Those beautiful imperfections.

"Thank you, for telling me." He said softly. It was a terrible sort of relief. He now knew she had lied to hurt him, but she not been unfaithful. And perhaps he had deserved what she had done. How many times had he tormented her? Even in his absence, apparently.

He said nothing more, but held her as she continued to cry out her confessions. And when her words were spent, Malon resorted to simpering wordlessly into his chest.

And then, she noticed something. The cold night breeze no longer bothered her. She was warm enough to tolerate it. And it was because he was wrapped around her. _He_ was warm. His arms, his chest, even his breath against the top of her head where he rested his chin.

And from his chest, where she rested her cheek, she could hear the gentle thumping of a heartbeat. She could feel the slow, rhythmic rising and falling of his chest as he breathed.

He held no intimation of smoke or weightlessness. He was solid, real, _alive_, and he smelled faintly of dirt and sweat.

Malon slowly relinquished her grip on his lapels and gingerly slid her hands down to his chest, pushing herself back from him.

Knil let her move away, looking at her questioningly. Was something wrong?

"You're different." Malon murmured, both an observation and a question.

"For crying out loud, it's just a little dirt!" Knil rolled his eyes in mock exasperation and dusted himself off. "You women, nothing's ever good enough for you, is there?"

Even though his tone dripped sarcasm and humor, there was something else behind them that caught Malon. The way he referred to _you women_, as if he had come to know women, come to know people in general. After he had vanished into the sky, wherever the burst of light had dropped him, he had continued to live. These passed months he must have seen new places and met new people, learned the meaning of hard work and hunger.

And he had been humbled.

For there was no doubt that he was still the rude, mischievous, short-tempered, self-centered brat he had always been. But now there was more to him than just that. He was more mindful of what he said, and seemed to at least be making an effort to understand another person. He had matured, even if he still had a long way to go. He was becoming human.

And a _good person_ at that.

"You've been traveling." Malon said, vision downcast. She couldn't imagine how much he'd been through, what it would have had to take to change him, what sort of women he had met along the way.

"Mm." He crossed his arms, leaning against the carriage. "You all left Death Mountain in such a rush. You didn't even give the Shade Pendant a chance to finish its work. It takes at least a few hours to mend human organs, you know?"

Malon nodded slightly, shamefully. If she had just waited there, if she had possessed enough faith, then she never would have had to go all this time thinking him dead.

"Anyway, I figured my first human experience was pretty much a bust. Excruciating pain was a new sensation, but not one worth giving up my shadow abilities for." Knil said, drawing in a deep breath to regale his story.

He told Malon of when he first of awoke, of trying to stand up, learning that muscles had to be told what to do and coordinated, learning what it was like to fall and scrape his skin, learning to endure the pain and try again, learning that gravity _was_ consistent after all, learning that he now weighed well over one hundred pounds at all times, learning to coordinate himself enough to walk, to climb down the mountain.

He told Malon of the difficulty his tongue gave him when trying to speak quickly; his muscles being tricky to command all at once. He told Malon of his first experience with hunger and exhaustion.

"To be honest," he chuckled slightly, "I began to think that becoming human was the worst mistake I had ever made."

But then his tone changed, as he told Malon about that first morning as a human being. He had opened his eyes and, for the first time, he had gazed up at the morning sky without rushing for cover. He had looked around at how bright and vibrant and _alive_ the world was in the day, and he had felt the sun's warmth on his face.

He'd also learned not to look directly into the sun, but that was a lesson quickly learned and from then on avoided.

He continued to tell Malon of the first time he felt a cool breeze against his skin, of how refreshing it felt to breathe in that calm wind. The feeling of his hair as it tussled gently in that very wind, it had almost tickled. The very fact that he could _be_ tickled.

And it had been then that he had made a choice. He was going to leave. He had to leave. There was too much he had to learn, and no time to dwell here scheming against his fairer former half. He was mortal now, after all.

Knil explained how he had walked aimlessly for days, starving all the while, until he came upon a small village. When the villagers saw him, they were put off by his red eyes, silver hair, and grey complexion. Some had even thought him possessed by an evil spirit. But Knil had nearly collapsed in hunger, proving his mortality, and erasing the villagers' initial fears.

It was the first time Knil had experiences compassion from strangers. They had fed him, clothed him, and given him a place to rest until he had his strength back. And once he was well fed, snuggly dressed, and fully rested, they offered him a job as a ranch hand.

Knil hadn't liked the idea of working, but he disliked the idea of starving even more. So he had his first experience with trying to work. It was a disaster. The animals hated him, he was still learning to move in his solid body so he was very clumsy, and he didn't know how to go about even the simplest of tasks.

The other ranch hands were often annoyed with him, and Knil was neither the most pleasant nor the most cooperative person to work with, but they did their best to teach him nonetheless.

Oh yes, he'd learned what sweating was too. Wet, sticky, and foul smelling; he _hated_ it. He'd also learned to hate the heat, but as summer began to fade into fall and fall into winter, he'd learned to hate the cold as well! Sure he'd had an idea of temperature before, but it had always been so moderate and mild. He'd never known hot and cold could come in such extremes.

Who knew snow could kill you? He'd made the mistake of disregarding the villager's warnings and wandering off into the snow. He was unpleasantly surprised to find that snow was hard to walk in. He was further surprised when his fingers, ears, and nose began to numb. Soon it was his entire body, and he was so cold he soon couldn't move. He had curled up into a shivering ball, naught but a couple yards from the inn, and almost frozen to death.

It was lucky that one of the maids who worked in the inn realized that he wasn't pulling a prank to pester everyone. She had called the bellboy and the two of them had dragged him inside. It was the first time he'd ever felt fire as warm. That was nice. It was also the first time he learned that touching fire wasn't worth the risk, being burned hurt much more than he had anticipated!

But despite how terribly that winter had gone, it had also been the first time he'd tasted hot tea, _really_ tasted it. And from then on he resolved that he would taste everything, that there was no pleasure he'd miss out on!

Of course, he'd spoken too soon, because the very next day he had become ill from his snowy escapades. Everyone had teased him for only getting a couple yards from the inn before he nearly froze to death. There hadn't even been a storm at the time. And he couldn't even shoot back witty comebacks, because his throat was too sore and his voice too swollen to speak.

He couldn't breath right, his nose was always stuffed up and his head ached. He couldn't stop coughing either, and he couldn't even taste anything anymore.

The maids wouldn't let him out of bed. Not that he was one to cooperate, but they threatened that he'd never get better if he didn't rest. And since Knil had no prior experience with being sick, he was actually too worried to rebel. And thus he learned to heed the words of others as well, because as frustrated and angry as he was, he eventually did get better.

Malon listened to his story and couldn't help the rush of guilt that hit her. In many ways Knil had been like a small child, experiencing the real world for the first time. And he had no one to guide him. Malon remembered being sick as a child, she always hated it too. But her mother had always done all she could to cheer little Malon up. It had been to world to Malon.

If she had just been there with him, in whatever remote village he had stumbled into, she could have held his hand as he tossed and turned uncomfortably all night. She could have prepared him some warm soup to help him feel better, and sung to him to keep him entertained.

Most of all, she could've kept him company, so he didn't have to be alone in his illness. She could comfort him; assure him that he would indeed get better soon. And even if he snapped at her or got impatient with her at times, she knew that deep down he'd appreciate the reassurance.

She could have been there with him. She should have been. If only she'd believed in him, if only she'd been brave enough to hope and search him out!

Then maybe he wouldn't have had to face the world alone.

"She tried to tell me…" Malon said, shifting her boots in the grass. Now that she was separated from him, she was vulnerable to the cold. "I just had to hold on a little longer, for your sake. But I was too weak, and I rejected my own feelings, I refused _you_. That was my true betrayal. I'm so sorry."

Knil tilted his head back, looking up at the stars in the sky, wondering why it was that there were few bright ones and so many that were dim. "Zelda's a bit of a know-it-all, isn't she?"

"Huh?" Malon looked up at him, surprised to find him smiling teasingly.

"But if you stop to consider the situation, it doesn't make much sense, does it? Why would I wander around aimlessly if I had a place to go?" Malon blinked in confusion. She hadn't noticed before, but now that he mentioned it, it _didn't_ make any sense. "I didn't want to come back. I didn't want to see you."

Malon stared at him for a second, wide-eyed, before turning to the side. She strained not to cry, not to make this complicated. He was alive and he seemed to be doing well for himself. Shouldn't that be enough for her? Even if he didn't love her…

"I wanted to see if I could be worthy of seeing you first." Knil said, matter-of-factly. Malon's heart skipped a beat and she snapped up to face him. He wasn't smiling or frowning. He was just being truthful, nothing more. "I had thought to wait until I was certain I was worthy, even if it took the rest of my life, but it was more difficult than I anticipated. I couldn't help but come back, just to catch a quick glimpse. I guess I've been caught." He put up his hands in mock surrender.

Malon could only stare, dumbfounded. What did this all mean? Then, he did love her. Right? Or was it something else? What was he really saying? Why couldn't he just spit it out?! Why did he always have to make everything so complicated?!

"What are you going to do now?" She asked, stepping forward.

"I guess I'll be leaving again. There are still so many places I could go—"

"Take me with you!" She practically shouted into his face. "Please, don't leave me again. Take me with you! I promise I won't slow you down! I don't eat much, and I can make my own clothing. I can even cook for you and do your laundry, if you'd like. Just please, Knil… don't leave me again. Let me go with you, no matter where you're headed. I won't be a burden!"

Knil took a step back, surprised by her sudden movement. "Okay, settle down. First of all, don't lie to me." He stood up tall, looming over her. "You would be a terrible burden! You'd miss all your family. You'd want human contact. You'd want to make friends with whatever person or animal we encountered. I'd have to concern myself with keeping you fed, and keeping you warm, and keeping you cool, and hell if I'm going to put up with any other womanly necessities I might discover along the way!"

Malon's face fell, her determination crushed. He didn't want her around. He'd just wanted to show her he could be worthy of her so he could rub it in her face. This was his revenge, wasn't it?

"On the other hand," Knil continued arrogantly, "you are useful for… other things." He raised his eyebrows at her suggestively, his hands creeping around her waist possessively.

Was that all he wanted her for?

"Surely your pursuit of pleasure has shown you alternative sources for _that_." Malon said indignantly, grabbing his hands and prying them off of her.

"Eh, see that's the thing." Knil said in an explicatory tone, holding the hands she had pushed him away with. "Women don't seem to do it for me."

Now it was Malon's turn to quirk an eyebrow.

"And don't give me that look, because I don't mean men do the trick either!" Knil amended quickly. "What I mean is, no matter where I've gone or who I've met there, there just doesn't seem to be a single person who stirs up even an inkling of desire in me." He raised a hand to place on her cheek, cupping it. "It really is quite frustrating."

"You poor baby." Malon scoffed derisively, trying to move her face away from his caress. But she couldn't do it; she had missed him too much to pull away now.

"I know." Knil said, playing the victim eagerly. "It's awful. I even began to worry that something was wrong with me. But then, somehow, this crazy theory came to me, that maybe I just wasn't close enough to the right person. That maybe, this human body had bound me to whoever had granted it to me."

"Oh really?" Malon glared. This was just too much! If he thought that he could just show up here, smooth talk her onto her back, and then just take off to continue finding himself for another year, then he had another thing coming!

"Yes." Knil replied simply. "But after all, it's only a crazy theory. The type you can never really trust in until…"

"Until?" Malon said, all venom, the conflicted feelings of joy and hurt only angering her further.

Now Knil smiled victoriously, his hand on her cheek bringing her closer. "Until you test it…" he whispered, closing the space between them.

And then, something happened that neither of them had ever done before.

They kissed.

It was so bizarre to think that even after everything that had happened, they had never just come together and kissed. Never. Neither had even thought of it.

But it was worth the delay, because it was the sweetest, most wonderful feeling either of them had ever known.

There was warmth, and there was passion, and suddenly there were bodies pressed together as the kiss escalated. What began as simple contact became a struggle. It was as if everything that had happened up to then, every moment of hurt and betrayal, of frustration and loneliness, of anger and fear, all rose up and drove them. They pushed and they pressed, and even as all the turmoil filled them, it suddenly didn't matter anymore. Because the simple, inescapable truth was, they were together now. They were in each other's arms, and they weren't trying to hurt each other, or being hurt. They were together, no hidden motives, just the obvious one; they _wanted_ to be together.

Malon would've let it go on like this forever, just the rush of emotion and surge of desire as she fought him for dominance, feeling how he still struggled with the movement of his arms on her back, still accustoming himself, his shadow grace gone.

But eventually they had to come up for air, and the two came apart gasping for breath.

He looked at her with dark, turbulent eyes.

She looked back, hair mussed and cheeks tinted pink.

He was so surprised; it showed clearly on his features. He hadn't expected it to feel that way. He hadn't expected to feel that _much_.

Before the stunned expression left his face, he pulled her against him roughly, clutching her to him, refusing to ever let go again.

It was foolish to think he could go without her again. Completely and utterly ludicrous.

"Malon..." He rasped against her ear, his voice hoarse and throaty, his breath hot against her neck.

"What do you want?" Malon interrupted whatever he had been preparing to say. "Whatever it is, I'll give it to you. Just please be honest with me so it won't hurt so much."

Knil's tightened his hold on her. So even after all this, she still thought he didn't…

"I want to take you up on your offer." He said, swallowing, struggling to keep himself standing with all the unfamiliar emotions and physical sensations swirling through him.

"My offer?" Malon felt him sag against her. She wanted to ask him if he was alright, but she wasn't sure she could trust him at this point. He never was one to be clear in his motivations.

"You said you'd run away with me." Knil said, grimacing uncomfortably. "I want you too…"

"To what?" Malon pulled back, just enough to look him in the eyes. Was he saying what she hoped he was saying? He wanted her with him? Always? "You want me to what?" _Just spit it out, Knil!_

"Actually, if we're talking short term, what I immediately want is a little assistance here." Knil shifted, moving to sit back in the carriage. When had his tunic become so confining? And since when was it so hot out here?! "I mean, if it's not too much to ask."

Malon looked at Knil, fighting to contain himself, and fidgeting under the pressure of his own body. She looked at him, and she smiled. She figured she wouldn't get a straight answer. He'd never given her one before.

"I just need to get a few things." She said, turning to leave. She stopped, turning back to Knil, and planted a little peck on his lips as an afterthought. "Wait for me here."

Knil looked up at her with abandoned, lustful but adoring eyes, and nodded in assent. He'd wait for her. He'd been waiting for her all along, he realized.

She hurried back to the ranch, stumbling through the dark as quietly as she could, grabbing a few changes of clothes and wrapping some bread, cheese, and milled milk for them. Malon smiled, imagining how much more Knil would probably like milled milk if he tried it now.

She stopped to scribble a brief goodbye note and post it on her door. She wished she could have explained it all in person, seen her father and Ingo one last time, but she didn't have the luxury. Knil was not a patient man, and her family would probably just try to stop her if they found out she was leaving with him.

As she hurried out of the house, Malon came across the bathing room. She contemplated how filthy Knil's clothes had been, and slipped inside quickly to grab a bottle of soap.

Then she rushed out of the ranch, still keeping her fingers crossed incase this was all just some brutal dream.

But it wasn't a dream, and there he was.

He frowned at her, upset with being left alone for so long, especially in need of her 'assistance' as he was.

"You promised you wouldn't slow me down!" He protested.

Malon smiled smugly, an attempted imitation of his own infuriating smirk, as she climbed into the carriage and laid herself over him.

"I lied." She said in a low, seductive voice.

And for once, Knil had no retort.

Above them the stars twinkled and blinked, in rhythm to the lullaby of life that had haunted them both as it came to an end.

The beat of their breathing and their frenzied movements set the tempo for an entirely new haunted lullaby, but they would face that in the morning.

Together.

* * *

This is NOT the last chapter. I repeat, NOT the last! 

There's still one more, so hold on to your hats!

And if you don't have a hat, you should really get one. They're great for holding on to.

Review replies!

**Chichilla:** AHH! Topaze Fire! You're back! (glomps) I missed your wonderful, insightful reviews so much! Sometimes I think you have a better grasp of what I'm doing with my writing than I do. I love the breakfast scene too. Poor Malon, she can never have a normal, happy, family meal. Knil just isn't cut out to have in laws, I suppose. And as for whether I write the way I do on purpose or if it just comes out, its a bit of both really. Usually I just start writing whatever comes to mind, and when I notice something I like about it, I work on that. And thank you SO much for all your reviews, praise, and suggestions. I don't know about me being really good, but that doesn't mean I don't like hearing it. XD Who doesn't, right? I'm a crazy fangirl too, so please! Fangirl all you want. We can fangirl over Knil together!

**Bach Suite No. 2 in D minor:** Eep! No! Fear not! It's not over! I'd never leave you all hanging like that! That's awful! Here, update! And there's still one more chapter left!

**Indigo Rose: **(Is depressed with you) Yes, the last chapter was a difficult one to write. That's why I tried to add in the song to pick things up a bit. The song is my fan translation of "Shissou", the ending theme to the show "Ouran High School Host Club." It's not that I'm a huge anime person, but a good friend of mine is, and she's gotten me addicted to a few of them. I haven't heard that song "Teardrops on my guitar", but I'll definitely go check it out now. Thanks!

**Odai: **And just when I'm getting a big head, I can always count on you to reality check me. Sorry for dissapointing you with the last chapter. I was just trying to get it out before I had to leave for the weekend, so you guys had something to read in my absence. Sorry, I know that isn't an excuse. Hopefully this chapter wasn't nearly as bad?

** ForTheLoveOfSugar:** I know what will cheer you up! (Knil: Sigh... I am sooo not a pirate lock) See? All better!

**DigiTails: **Hiya! So you've been reading the story for a while? Nice to finally hear from you then! Welcome. And noooo, he's not "just dead." I'd never do that to my readers.

**Herooftimes:** Your reaction is exactly the one of the characters as well. But as you see, things are not always what they seem. Ooh, I sound spooky. Haha, thanks for reviewing. It means a lot.

**shadow thief wolf:** Yay! One of the few people who liked my last chapter, even if it was sad. (Glomps) And yes, I loved that breakfast scene too. That's kinda how life was with my older brother, flying pancakes everywhere. Now if only I had a sexy shadow boyfriend for my brother to chase around with a pitchfork... XD

**Windmill Sage:** Ahh! You caught me. Yes... it is. A fan translation, but its the ending song from Ouran. And for recognizing it, here's your prize! A super special awesome kiss from Knil! (Knil: No way! I'm not into windmills! Or sages!) Or girls apparently... (Knil: Shut up, you know I only go for Malon.) Fine. Will a kiss from Link do? (Link: Huh?!) Princess Zelda ordered you to. (Link: Oh, well, if she says so... I guess she must have a reason.) Here ya go! (Link:--kiss--)

**Najexell:** ZOMG, I KNOW! Friggin Knil, always doing reckless things. I'd write him out of the story if he wasn't so damn vital to my ratings! XD Thanks so much for the review. I really appreciate it. It keeps me from going crazy when putting up with Knil.

**Spiritual Stone:** I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I apologize to you! I apologize to the whole WORLD!

**overlordofnobodies:** I know, Knil is bipolar or something. One second he makes everyone happy, the next he makes everyone depressed and suicidal! Don't worry, there's only one more chapter to go. Please don't go crazy yet!

**chocolateteddygrahams:** Yay! You're back! Don't worry about not always being able to review. When you DO review, your reviews are always worth the wait! And there, just for you, Malon explained why she shouted out Link's name. And Link is a sweetheart. I feel bad for giving him such a hard time. He just wants Malon and everyone to be happy.  
As for your summary, "Knil was gonna leave Malon for her own good, but then her little stunt made him doubt her love for him and her truthfulness, so he decided that since link beat him even in that, and he cannot beat link, he doesnt want to exist as a mere shadow of link, and would rather be killed?", yes. That's exactly it. Couldn't have said it better myself, and I wrote it.  
Knil turned down the pendant because he didn't want it this way. After everything that had happened, he didn't want her to throw it at him just to get rid of him. In his own twisted mind, taking the pendant would be just another victory for Link, since that would leave Malon free to be with Link. Yeah, Knil has issues.  
Thank you so much for sticking through my story, even when things got rough. (glomps)

**Ninja Froggy: **HAHAHA! My story turns into DBZ. Knil suddenly talk like Vegeta, Link has to gather a group of items to revive Knil, Zelda suddenly develops a short temper, and Malon becomes whiny and completely useless.Ah, DBZ, how you captured our young hearts and minds with your poor plot development and character stereotypes!

**soulcollector:** The Shade Pendant took Knil to a fancy surgery room up in the sky. Haha, just kidding. Or am I? Dun dun DUUUUN!

** xbluxmoonx:** I know! Both Malon and Knil can't seem to catch a break. But now it looks like things might finally start working out, right?

**The Legend of Soul Emblem:** Yay! Another one of the few people who liked the last chapter. The light is a bit of a mystery. It seemed that for whatever reason, Knil had to vanish for a little while before he could really exist properly. And of course it didn't help that he had a gaping hole in his chest. Poor, poor Knil. Thanks so much for all your reviews!

**TheWatcherandReader:** Yeah, it was a bit cliche, I'll admit. But I thought it was appropriate given the situation. As for the discrepency, ahhh! Im so sorry. I just wanted to find the breed of that kind of horse, but the internet kept telling me it was called an "Arabic horse". So I thought we could all just pretend that its just a breed of horse, not a place. Right? Please? And thank you so much for pointing out my mistakes. It helps a lot!

**shadowsasuke:** Nuuuu! Please don't cry! Look, Knil's alive! And he has cookies! (Gives cookies) See? All better.

**Kaelin Voidshadow:** It's always the good who suffer most, isn't it?

**Axie-chan: **That's what I said. To myself. After I wrote it. ... sniffle.

**Bourgeois Sounds Swell: **No, no, no, no, no! It's not the end! Please don't be dissapointed! I promise the next chapter will wrap everything up nicely!

**JosephineInLove:** Hurray! Thanks so much for all your reviews. They always brighten up my day. Well, here we are towards the end of the story. I can't believe its almost over! Squee!

**Little-Yellow-Box:** Okay! Hope this update was quick enough. The play's going great, by the way. Thanks for asking.

**FeatherEars: **You know, I'm going to be sad when this ends too. I mean, I'm excited, but I'm also sad. I'm going to miss coming on here everyday to check if any of you guys have reviewed, feeling great when you guys like a chapter and berating myself when you guys are dissapointed. It's been a great experience.


	16. Steal Away The Cradle In My Mind

And so it ends, as it began, unsure and only the beginnings of a much grander story.

A story that can never fully be told.

Because Hyrule never really ends.

* * *

**  
**

**Steal Away The Cradle In My Mind**

The sounds of rustling branches and running water woke Malon. She sat up, blinking the sun out of her eyes, and surveyed her surroundings. She had just had the most wonderful dream…

…and it seemed she was still in it.

She was in a carriage, she realized. Her blouse was misbuttoned and her skirt inside-out, having been hastily thrown back on last night.

Malon looked over to her side and found him there, fast asleep. She hadn't expected to wake before him, but she realized why she had. He wasn't used to feeling anything so strongly. He'd only been human a year, after all. And even after it all, he had still hurried to drive their carriage as far from Hyrule as he could manage without collapsing. He deserved to rest.

Looking at him, lips parted slightly and hair disheveled, snoring ever so lightly as his chest rose and fell in rhythm with his breathing; he seemed so vulnerable. Sure, when it came to direct confrontation, Knil was more the aggressor than the victim. But when it came to just about anything else, Knil was so defenseless. He was still discovering his body and his emotions. He didn't know how to deal with people, and cope with human troubles. In that sense he was so naïve, so innocent. All the responsibilities and stresses that people learned to overcome throughout a lifetime, were suddenly being forced upon him all at once. A person could lose their mind this way. Knil was fragile.

Malon noticed him shiver in his sleep. He was still accustoming himself to the cold. A strong feeling of protectiveness washed over Malon, and she reached into her bag to pull out her robe. She threw it over him, tucking it up to his chin, and smiled as he settled back into an undisturbed sleep.

She knew she wouldn't have to worry about herself anymore. Knil would watch out for her, she was sure of it. She would only concern herself with Knil. She would protect him. No matter how hard things got, no matter how insufferable he could be, she would take care of him.

Malon stepped out of the carriage, feeling the roughness of the soil, twigs, and leaves beneath her feet. They had driven all the way into some forest on the outskirts of Hyrule. And it was beautiful.

There was a stream nearby; which must have been the source of the sound of running water Malon had woken to. It was clear, crystalline, foaming only at the edges where it met the shore. Careful not to slip on the slick sand, Malon held up her skirts and walked along the bank. She squealed in surprise as the cold water lapped against her feet.

"Malon?!" came a terrified voice from the carriage. Malon turned around, smiling back. There was Knil, jumping down from the carriage and running towards her in a panic. "What is it? What happened?!" He ran right into the stream, soaking himself. He seemed so worried. It was endearing.

"Nothing." Malon giggled, splashing a little water at Knil playfully. "I was just considering taking a quick dip."

Knil scowled, irritated, and stormed out of the stream, a dripping mess. "Don't go wandering off alone like that!" He reprimanded angrily. "Especially not without my permission!" He was silent for a moment, but then reached out and grabbed Malon by the arm, pulling her out of the stream. "You're mine, do you hear? MINE!"

Malon sighed. Normally she might've protested against him treating her like his property. But she had come to understand Knil somewhat. He wasn't saying it to insult her, he just didn't know how else to show his concern.

"Yes." Malon breathed, reaching forward to cup his cheek. "I'm yours, Knil." She planted a chaste, little peck of a kiss on his lips. His grip on her arm loosened in response. "But only if you're mine, too."

Knil groaned in exasperation and whirled away from her, storming off back into the carriage. "Just come on! I won't let you delay me any more than you already have!"

Malon smiled, skipping after him. Oh yes, he was very sensitive. But she _would_ protect him, at all costs. She swore it.

XxX

"Knil!" The old woman shrieked for the fifth time in a row. She shook her head in disapproval, turning to Malon as she helped her fold the clothes. "Useless, that man of yours. How many times do I have to call—KNIL?!"

"I said I'm COMING you old hag!" came Knil's hostile reply from outside.

The old woman ran to the window, throwing open the shutters to better address the man in the fields. "Don't bother coming inside! I just want to remind you to pick those rutabagas today! If they wait any longer, they'll rot in the ground!"

"What the hell do you think I'm _doing_ out here with a sack full of RUTABAGAS?!" Knil screamed back furiously, throwing the sack to the ground for emphasis.

"Well I wouldn't have to remind you, if you did things the first time I asked!" The old woman snorted derisively.

"You never _ask_ me to do anything! All you ever do is shriek and order, you old shrew!" Knil shouted through gritted teeth.

"How dare you say such a terrible things to a poor old woman? After I took you and Malon in out of the goodness of my heart!" The old woman replied, suddenly shifting demeanor to that of a victim. "Why, if my husband were alive today to see this—"

"Damn it, woman." came a disgruntled male voice from the hall. "I'm not dead! Can't a man visit the privy for five minutes without being declared dead?!"

"Sometimes," the old woman sniffled, "I swear I can still hear his voice."

"That's because I'm right here!" The old man retorted in annoyance.

Malon tittered, having long ago accustomed herself to such a scene. "Auntie?" Malon addressed the old woman, as she had been asked to. "Please don't be so hard on Knil. He really does work hard."

"Oh, I know that darling." said 'Auntie'. "But that man of yours is still far too impatient. He'll have to learn how to cope with his own frustration before the baby's born."

Malon made to stand, stopping, suddenly light-headed, and sat back down with a hand on her swollen belly.

"Malon, dear! Be more careful!" Auntie said worriedly, dropping the clothes in her hand and rushing over to Malon's side. "You really shouldn't be trying to stand in your condition. You need your rest."

"I'm fine, Auntie. Really I am." Malon assured the old woman.

"No, no, no! We'll have none of that, young lady." Auntie replied, ushering Malon over to the bed. "If not for your own sake, then for the baby's; I insist you stay in bed."

Malon sighed but nodded in agreement, slipping—with some difficulty—into bed. It seemed all she did lately was for the good of the baby.

Malon closed her eyes as she laid her head back on the soft feather-stuffed pillow Auntie had sown for her. As boring and frustrating as being trapped in bed was, Malon could only count herself lucky for all the old midwife was doing for her. And besides, things were much more difficult for Knil, having been forbidden from seeing Malon for the last few months.

She still remembered the day she came aware of the pregnancy. She hadn't told Knil, for fear that he'd take the news badly or even try to insist she rid herself of the unborn child. After all, Knil didn't like people. The last thing she wanted to impose upon him was a baby. In fact, Knil avoided villages and towns altogether, unless it was absolutely necessary that they stop for supplies. It was lonely sometimes for Malon, who was a sociable and sweet person by nature. But at least she had Knil, and she didn't want to risk losing him over this predicament. So Malon had just kept quiet, hoping that a solution would present itself.

But then things had become difficult. The pregnancy was a complicated one, and within a month of her discovering she was pregnant, Malon began bleeding. Knil had been so worried he had rushed to the nearest town and demanded medical attention.

The small town's doctor had examined Malon and given them the great news; they were going to be parents! Knil was less than thrilled. And it only got worse from there, when the doctor announced that it was a complicated pregnancy and that exacerbating Malon could risk not only the baby's life, but Malon's as well.

Knil had been furious, demanding that the _parasite_—as he dubbed it—be exterminated immediately. He had been so dead-set on his decision that Malon had to use the strongest tool in her arsenal to persuade him otherwise; she cried.

"_The last thing I want is to make you unhappy."_ Knil had muttered uncomfortably. _"But I don't want you hurting either."_

With help from the doctor, Malon had managed to convince Knil that she would be fine if she took extra care of herself. Of course, this had meant that they had to stop traveling. The constant moving only aggravated Malon's condition. She was confined to bed rest.

And as much as Knil loathed the idea of staying in one place—especially this particular town, which seemed to be an extremely judgmental one and had already dubbed Knil as unsalvageably cursed—he would not risk Malon's health. He agreed to stay.

But finding a place to stay had proved difficult too. The local inn would not rent a room to anyone possessed by 'vengeful' or 'dark' spirits of any kind. Knil tried to request permission to build his own house on town property, but had also been refused. No one wanted them there. Some townspeople even began to say that Malon was a prisoner of the dark spirit, and that it was wreaking its vengeance by slowly killing her and her unborn child. Knil _hated_ these people, but he could not take Malon out of town. She couldn't travel that far safely. But they had no place to stay, and Malon needed a warm bed!

Then, just as things seemed most hopeless, the old midwife had come along. She had asked to be called Auntie and reassured Malon that she was not frightened of Knil.

"_The boy has some Sheikah blood, that's all."_ Auntie had proclaimed surely and proudly. _"When you get to be as old as me, you see people of all shades. It's no big issue."_

Malon had been so relieved, she hadn't bothered to correct the old woman's assumption. If passing Knil off as part Sheikah would make him better accepted, then why not lie?

Auntie had offered Malon her services as a midwife as well as a place to stay until the child was born. All she asked in return was that Knil work as a field hand and tend to her crops. She was getting too old to do it herself.

At first everything had gone well. Knil and Malon shared a decent room with a comfortable bed. Knil worked hard and earned their keep. But Malon's bleeding would not stop, and the old midwife resolved that she knew the cause.

Knil was the problem.

The old midwife explained that Knil's insatiable desire was only aggravating the delicate pregnancy. At first she tried forbidding Knil from touching Malon, but Knil had never been one to obey authority. And besides, unlike Malon who made friends easily, Knil had no one else. So whenever the old woman turned her back, even for an instant, Knil was pulling Malon back into his arms again.

Finally, after a particularly bad relapse on Malon's part which kept her in bed for days, the old woman had taken more extreme measures. Knil was not to see Malon again until after the child was born.

Knil had objected furiously, but the old midwife was clever. _"If you don't do this, she'll die!"_ The old woman threatened. And as enraged as this made Knil, he would not risk Malon's life.

So Knil had been forced to sleep in the drafty little tool shed outside. He continued to work hard to earn their keep, but he had become increasingly irritable and, Malon feared, perhaps even dangerous. But she knew it was only because he was lonely. The rest of the town regarded him with frightened and hateful eyes. Who could blame him for his frustration?

"You call these puny things rutabagas?" The old woman chided from outside. "What have you been watering them with? Essence of pygmy?"

"If you don't like them, I can stuff them back in the ground!" Knil shouted back angrily. Malon's eyes flew open at the sound. Were they arguing again?

"I'd take you up on that, if I didn't already know you'd do a horrendous job of it!" Auntie retorted.

"You old keese!" There was a hard thud from outside. _Knil must've punched something…_ Malon though with a sigh. "What the hell do you want?! You've already taken Malon away from me, what next? You want me to find her a new suitor too?!"

"Well, if he'd make a more attentive husband than you…" The old woman trailed off, purposely provoking Knil.

"I'm not inattentive!" Knil's voice went up into a high and gritty pitch, incredulous to what he was hearing. "It's YOU who won't let ME see her!"

Malon turned away from the window. She didn't want to hear this. It made her so sad to know that Knil was suffering. Not to mention how much she missed him too. After so long of it just being the two of them, of always having him beside her when she slept, it was so lonely without him. But she just had to be patient. She was on her seventh month, it would be over soon. She'd see him soon.

Unless of course, there was a way she didn't have to wait. If there was a way to not break the rules, but maybe just bend them a little…

Malon smiled to herself, formulating a devious little plan. But it would have to wait for tomorrow. At the moment, she was tired.

_I won't leave you alone, Knil. _Malon thought as she closed her eyes and slowly let herself drift to sleep. _I will protect you. I will keep my promise._

Malon was accustomed to waking before the sun was up, having been raised on a ranch all her life. She was careful not to move too quickly, at the risk of aggravating her own condition and ruining her own plans. It wasn't often that she went again Auntie's wishes, but just this once wouldn't be so bad.

She tiptoed out of her room and down the hallway, careful not to make any noise that might turn the old midwife's attention to her. Auntie was probably in her room, knitting or engaging in some other stereotypical activity for an old woman. For as untraditional as the old woman really was, she still worked hard to keep up an appearance of normalcy. Malon wasn't sure exactly why, though she suspected that part of the reason was just for the fun of seeing people's shocked faces when they encountered the _real_ Auntie.

Suspicions regarding the old midwife aside, Malon continued down the hall, passed Auntie's room, through the kitchen, into the living room, and out the door. Mission almost accomplished, now for the hard part; dealing with Knil.

Supporting her swollen belly with one hand, Malon made her way towards the tool shed. She had thought he'd still be sleeping, but instead she found him on the way. He was already up, had probably been up for hours, working. She watched, mesmerized by the sight of him, as he raised up a heavy old axe and brought it down hard on a small log of wood, splitting it perfectly into two even halves. Wiping his brow with his forearm, Knil grabbed the sliced wood and threw it into a nearby pile.

He was working so hard, all for her.

"Knil?" She said gently, sweetly. It'd been so long since she'd been this close to him.

Knil froze, stiffening, and turned around slowly to face her. He stared at her for a moment, eyebrows knit together in thought as he tried to figure out exactly what he was seeing. Then, coming to a conclusion, he approached her.

"What are you doing out of bed?" He whispered harshly, keeping some space between them. "Stupid girl!"

"Knil." Malon smiled, noting his heavy breathing and clenched fists. He was really trying to restrain himself. He tried so hard for her. She stepped closer, bringing out a hand to place on his chest, before leaning into him.

Knil responded immediately, wrapping his arms around her tightly and burying his face into her hair to inhale her sweet feminine scent. "The old moblin is going to crucify me." Knil muttered into her head.

"Then we better make these last moments worth it." Malon tittered, tilting her head up to plant a small kiss on his jaw.

"Malon…" Knil exhaled, running his hands down her shoulders, over her arms, down to her abdomen. Feeling the swell of her belly, Knil drew back suddenly. Malon caught his hands, holding them down to her.

"It's alright." Malon cooed reassuringly. "You can feel him kick."

"Parasite." Knil spat, removing his hands and bringing them down to his sides pointedly. "It's a nasty parasite, leeching your life and your strength out of you. And still you insist on keeping that thing."

"It's not a thing. It's a baby." Malon protested. Here it came, one of Knil's fits. He could be so unbearable sometimes!

"It… is… a… parasite!" Knil said. "Your baby or not, that doesn't change the fact."

"_My_ baby?" Malon rolled her eyes, shaking her head in disappointment. Here they had a nice moment together and he had to ruin it. "You know, the last time I checked, I had some help making this _thing_."

"A mistake I've been trying to rectify." Knil retorted stubbornly. "You're the one who had to go and get _attached_ to it."

"Knil, please," Malon said reasonably, trying to bring back the peaceful mood from earlier, "this is our child. A creation of the two of us, together. What are you so afraid of?"

"Afraid isn't the word for it, Malon!" Knil grabbed Malon's wrists, pulling her roughly into a sloppy, forceful kiss, before pushing her back just as suddenly. "_That_ is what I mean. Being ripped away from you, just like that! And it's all that damned _thing's_ fault!"

"Knil, don't." Malon closed the space between them, leaning into Knil again, trying to make him understand with tenderness. "The circumstances are unfortunate, I agree. It's been difficult for me too, you know. I can rarely even leave the house. And being kept away from you? It's like before, when you left me, all over again."

"I _don't want_ this, Malon!" Knil insisted stubbornly, gripping Malon's shoulders.

"Neither do I, Knil. But it's only for a little while longer." She looked up to face him, willing him to understand, hard as it was. "And when it's over, you'll be glad. Just imagine, a little girl with your eyes. Or a little boy with my singing voice."

"An annoyance." Knil muttered under his breath.

"A baby." Malon corrected, reaching up to grab a hold of Knil's lapels, and pulling him down into a kiss.

Knil responded instantly, forgetting all his arguments against the child. All he cared about was Malon, and at the moment he had her. He carefully slid one hand under her blouse, caressing her bare back, as he responded to her hungrily. It had been too long…

"AHA!" Came a triumphant voice from behind them. "You thought you could fool Auntie?!" The old woman pointed at the couple accusingly with a broom.

Knil and Malon sprung apart in a flash, eyes wide and embarrassed.

"Selfish, insatiable, lecher!" The old woman reprimanded Knil, giving him a hard smack with the broom for every word.

"It's not like that!" Knil objected, moving out of the broom's way and clutching his sore head where she had smacked him.

"Don't try to lie to Auntie!" The old woman gave chase, her weapon held high. "I wasn't born yesterday!"

"Clearly not, you ancient Stalfos!" Knil retorted, avoiding the broom as best he could.

The old woman stopped, turning to Malon. "Malon, dear. I don't blame you for any of this of course. You're so fragile and petite; I know he probably forced you into it."

"I did no such thing!" Knil protested angrily, snatching the broom from the old woman's hands. "And she's anything but petite! Just look at her, she's gotten HUGE!"

"How _dare_ you?!" The old woman puffed up in outrage, drawing a skillet seemingly from thin-air, and boxed Knil's ears. "Don't you ever insult Malon that way! The nerve, she sacrifices her dress size for _your_ offspring, and this is how you treat her?! Terrible, awful undignified, mannerless, classless, tactless, STUPID, boy!" The old woman ranted on, matching each word with a blow.

"Please, Auntie." Malon said placidly, trying to calm the situation. "He really didn't force me. I was the one who imposed it upon him, in fact."

The old woman halted her attack, turning to Malon with sympathetic eyes. "Oh, Malon, so selfless. Trying to take the blame for _his_ misdeeds! Such a kind heart and giving spirit. Come, let's get you in bed before something happens to you…" The old woman said, ushering Malon back into the house. She paused only once to glare back at Knil and mouth a threat, before disappearing into the house with Malon.

Knil clenched his fists; driving his nails into his skin and feeling the blood rush out with satisfaction. "I HATE YOU!" he bellowed, his entire body shaking in rage. "Why can't you just hurry up and die, you old hag?!" Knil turned to the pile of firewood he had chopped, kicked at the split wood with all his might and watching as they flew in all directions, not caring where they went or what they hit. He picked up the axe and hacked away at the ground, pounding into the dirt again and again, in and out, in and out, driving the gash deeper and deeper into the dirt, until his body protested in pain and Knil had to stop to catch his breath.

He hated this. He absolutely _detested_ it. But most of all, he hated the knowledge that he was a risk to Malon. Even when he wasn't trying to hurt her, even when he was trying to _care _for her, he could only cause her pain.

He wasn't cut out to be an ordinary human. He was a monster. And no enchanted object could change that.

"You're not the first person to feel this way, you know." Said a strong, deep voice in front of Knil. There stood an old man, who seemed somehow familiar, and yet Knil couldn't quite pin who he was.

"Who the hell are you?" Knil asked in irritation, dropping the axe and standing tall.

"What do you mean?!" The old man rolled his eyes and palmed his own forehead. "Why does no one remember me?! This is my house! I live here! That crazy old woman is my wife! I see you everyday! For Goddesses' sake, I'm the one who taught you how to work the field when you first got here!"

Knil raised an eyebrow and nodded. "Right. Whatever you say, mysterious old man."

The old man threw up his hands with a groan. "Just forget it. Listen. Let's take a walk." The old man turned towards the fields, gesturing for Knil to join him. Knil shrugged and followed. It wasn't like standing around was going to make him feel any better.

The old man took Knil around the fields, praising him on a job well done as they came upon any particularly well kept crops. Although Knil would never admit it, he was glad to have _someone_ who was grateful for his work. Knil was not a psychologist, nor would he analyze himself even if he was one, but the simple fact was that he was lonely without Malon and craved a little positive attention to get through it. And so the old man's simple words of gratitude, without being excessive, were enough to placate Knil somewhat and convinced him to listen.

"You're not the first man to feel like this." The old man said as he and Knil walked back towards the house. "I know it must seem that way sometimes. But it happens to everyone. Sometimes we have to sacrifice what we want the most. And it isn't easy. Of course we want it back. It's not selfish to want it back, nor is it wrong. It's human."

Knil looked down at his shoes, observing how they kicked up dust with every step, listening intently.

"But I have to warn you," the old man said with a grin, "before it gets any better, it's going to get worse."

Knil stopped, looking up at the old man in incredulity and anger. "What's that grin for then, you old coot?! You like seeing people miserable, just because you're old and going to die sooner!"

The old man frowned, walking calmly over to Knil, and giving him a hard smack on the back of the head.

"WHAT WAS THAT?!" Knil held his head, glaring daggers at the old man.

"You need to learn a little tact." The old man said plainly, continuing down his path, "If you go around insulting anyone who tries to help you, you're never going to get anywhere."

"What the hell are you talking about?!" Knil yelled stubbornly, running to catch up with the old man. "All I want is Malon! She's MINE, and I want her back!"

"And you'll have her back as soon as the child's born." The old man smiled knowingly. The boy was hardheaded and hot-tempered, but at least he was making an effort to understand. "But by then, she might be preoccupied with someone else. Someone she'll value over you."

"Shut up!" Knil grabbed the old man by the collar and swung him back so as to force the old man to look up into his face. "Malon is mine, and I'll smash anyone's face in that says otherwise!"

"As much as I hate to be the one to break it to you, and not only because I like my face as it is, you can't own a human being." The old man calmly reached for Knil's hand, prying the shaking fingers off of his shirt, and took a few steps back, dusting himself off. "Malon is her own person and she will make her own choices, with or without you. And the simple truth is that once this child is born, you will always come second."

Knil looked down at his hands, surprised with how calm the old man had remained through his threat. Was he losing his touch, or losing his mind? "Second to who?" he barely managed to murmur out. The old man couldn't possibly be serious, could he?

"To whom." The old man corrected, nodding sagely. "To the child of course. Malon will be enamored with it from the moment she sees it. You won't understand why. It'll cry all the time, keep her awake and give her no time to do anything for herself, it will spit up all over the place, it will need constant changing, it will need to be fed all the time, and it will just be an overall disgusting little mass of ear-grating noise." The old man almost laughed, as if recalling a particularly humorous memory, and then sobered just as quickly. "But that's not the worst part. For the next year, everything and anything you do will be wrong. She will always be cross with you and you'll probably be more the villain than ever. And the harder you try to make things right, the worse everything will get. Even if you try to ignore the situation, the worse everything will get."

"You're lying!" Knil snarled, raising a fist in warning. "Malon would never—"

"After months of no sleep and hardly even having time to eat, believe me," the old man put a sympathetic hand on Knil's shoulder, ignoring the raised fist and the veiled threat it represented, "she will be a completely different person."

Knil opened his mouth to object, to protest, to call the man a liar and fling another threat, but it was no use. Knil had to admit to himself, he knew nothing about children. And everything the old man was saying sounded perfectly logical. Once Malon had her baby, why would she need him anymore? Then, was that it? He was going to lose her, just like that? And there was nothing he could do about it?

"But again, if one learns to handle the difficult times with patience and compassion and _tact_, then one can make it through to better days." Knil shrugged the old man's hand off. He didn't want to hear this. He didn't want to hear how any other person could cope with this, because he knew he never could. "And I know you could." The old man said simply.

Knil looked back at the old man questioningly. "Me?" he scoffed, a bitter smile dancing on his lips.

"If you love her enough to put her before yourself, then yes." The old man said, starting down the path again. "Personally, I think you still have a ways to go. But with some work, it could be done."

Knil stood on the dirt path, the smell of both damp and dry soil surrounding him. The breeze blew, sending a few autumn leaves flying at his feet. Knil bent down to pick one up, careful not to tear it in his grasp as he turned it around and examined it. Crisp, cool, fresh, and… dead. And yet, curiously, the leaves were so full of color. Full of color as they fell from the branches, as they never would be when they grew upon them. Falling was just part of life's cycle. If one did not accept it, then one would never see the true beauty of the world. They'd be stuck in one place, on one branch, forever swaying obliviously in the wind.

Knil wanted more than that. He wanted to understand. He wanted to be the best example of human he could be, so that he could be worthy of Malon. So he could someday provide her with the life she deserved, not this constant traveling and uprooting. She wanted stability. He wanted to give it to her. But he wasn't ready yet. He wasn't strong enough yet to trust himself, and he was too selfish to trust in Malon alone. He wasn't ready, he came first. He couldn't get over himself. He had barely begun to discover himself! It was too hard! He wasn't ready!

Knil crushed the fragile little leaf in his hand, letting the orange and brown crumbs catch on the wind and fly away.

He wasn't ready.

That night, as Knil retired towards the shed where he slept, he glanced towards Malon's window, only to catch a most peculiar sight. Her window was not only unlocked, it was wide open. Impossible, the old midwife had made sure to secure the window with latch and key every night so that Knil could not slip in. And Malon could not reach up to undo the high latch without straining herself.

This was the work of an ally. Someone was sabotaging the old hag from the inside out!

Unaware and uncaring of whom this secret ally could possibly be, Knil rushed to the house and clambered inside the window with all the stealth he could manage. Once inside, he stood up tall, straightening himself up, trying to swallow his own heart as he felt it rise in his throat in anticipation.

And there she was. Lying on the simple cotton sheet bed, eyes shut serenely, her halo of hair splayed out on her pillow; the dark color contrasting against the white of the pillow case, and her delicate features oblivious to his intrusion, Malon slept. The slight light of a lantern cast writhing shadows over her form, giving Knil the illusion of his own hands running over her body. Knil licked his lips, his mouth suddenly very dry, as he reached forward with the intention of undoing her blouse. But Malon shifted suddenly, Knil's hand grazing her abdomen instead.

He had felt movement inside her.

And his selfishness struck him them, for the first time. Even after everything she had done for him, sacrificed for him, he was still so willing to risk her for his own satisfaction. Knil pulled back his hand, staring down at Malon as she settled in her sleep, still oblivious to his presence. She deserved better.

Knil scowled, irritated by the realization; maybe the old hag was right. Knil looked back down at Malon, his expression softening. Tentatively, Knil leaned forward, pressing a light kiss to her forehead and then ran a hand over the same spot tenderly.

With a frustrated sigh, Knil turned away and hopped back out the window and closed it, climbing down with some effort, struggling with his own desire.

As Knil made his way to the shed where he slept, he glanced back at Malon's now shut window. Maybe he could do this. For her, he could.

Knil smirked. "Thanks, old man." Knil said to himself as he turned away from the window that he had left open for him.

He wasn't ready. But he would be. When the time came and Malon needed him, he would be ready, for her, whatever it took. He'd be there for her.

XxX

"Where IS he!?" The old midwife scoffed, yelling to the old man outside the room. "And bring me more damp towels! We need to cool her down!"

The old man nodded and rushed out of the house in a panic. He'd been searching for the former shadow all morning, to no avail.

"Kn-nil?" Malon choked out between gasps for breath.

"Don't worry hon; I'm sure he's on his way." Auntie said, pouring the poor girl a glass of water to keep her hydrated. "Here, drink this. And just keep breathing, you'll be fine."

"Why isn't he here now?! I want my father!" Malon cried desperately. Hearing this, the old woman's heart broke for the girl.

"Knil's on his way, sweetheart." She assured her. "He's close."

But Knil wasn't close. In fact, Knil was quite possibly the farthest he could be without leaving town.

For the old woman had given Knil the day off from work, supposedly so he could be by Malon's side during the ordeal. But she had failed to mention her reason to Knil, and so Knil had decided to take advantage of his free time and get as far from those ignorant townspeople as he could.

He wandered around the woods surrounding the town, taking solace in the quiet and simplicity of nature. That and the fact that if anything in nature annoyed him, he could just skewer it with his sword.

So far he had slain one Lizardfols in self-defense, three bokoblins for looking at him funny, and a couple bushes for supposedly laughing at him. Oh, and he'd stepped on a few skulltulla, just for the fun of it. And swatted a butterfly, but that was purely accidental! He had thought it was a wasp at the time.

Due to the circumstances, Knil was in a rather neutral mood. He had no idea what he was missing, nor what he was about to encounter.

It wasn't until he tripped and nearly fell over the squat, dirty, little creature that he noticed he was not alone.

"Hey, you okay?" Knil asked, though he really wasn't the least bit concerned.

The squat creature looked up through its wide brimmed straw hat and tucked itself further in its robes as it huffed and stood.

"Yeah, well, if you're fine, I'm leaving then." Knil shrugged, walking away from the odd creature in disinterest.

"Wait!" the creature rasped, hobbling towards him. "I have been searching for you, chosen doppelganger born of shadows."

Knil stopped in his tracks, sighing in annoyance. "So you know what I am." Knil turned, starring down at the small, dirty creature with scornful eyes. "And what is the reason for searching?"

Despite Knil's intimidating size and demeanor, the little creature did not shrink back. "The hero has failed." It said, bowing its head in reverence. "Hyrule has fallen."

Knil blinked, straining to make sure he'd heard correctly. "What did you just say?"

"Hyrule has fallen, and the hero is vanquished." The creature said mournfully.

Knil felt the world shrinking around him. Link was… dead? The unbeatable, undefeated, all-powerful and all-good hero was… dead? The one man Knil had tried all his existence to destroy and failed, was gone? Just like that? How was it possible? Link couldn't _die_. It was _Link_! The Hero of Hyrule! Wielder of the Master Sword! Keeper of the Triforce of Courage! The savior of this world, the bane of evil! How could he simply… _stop_ living? How was Knil still here, alive, when Link had—who knew for how long already—left this world?

"Why are you telling me this?" Knil breathed, clenching his fists in sudden defensiveness. "Who are you?!"

"A torrent of relentless rain pours down on Hyrule. If left to its own devices, soon Hyrule will lie at the bottom of a great ocean." The squat little creature said, eyes glittering through the shade of its dirty hat. "But the Princess has fled, Zelda still lives. As long as her bloodline survives, there is hope."

From all around Knil, plants and bushes began to rustle as other little creatures of the same kind emerged; surrounding him.

"You are all that remains of the hero, in this world." The creature said, bringing up a hand covered by a long, nappy sleeve. "Only you can save Hyrule."

Knil spun around, dizzied by the sudden appearance of the creature's allies. He tried desperately to process what he was being told, but it was too unreal; a complete contradiction of all he had ever been made to believe. How could Link be killed? And moreso, how could Knil be the only hope for Hyrule when before he had been a terrible blight? How was it that he was now the only person qualified, when before he had not even been a person? How could he now be the hero's equivalent, when he had struggled for so long to be barely more than a shadow?

"Who are you?!" Knil demanded angrily, trying, in vain, to distance himself from the enclosing circle. "Show your true form!"

"You do not command us, Hero's shade!" The creatures called in screeching unison, the sound running up Knil's spine and ringing in his head.

Knil screamed and fell to his knees, holding his ears in pain as the strange little creatures threw up their dirty straw hats and their cloaks dissolved in the light that poured forth from their bodies. Their faces floated, unattached to their lustrous forms, and robes of incandescent light with stitched gossamer symbols of the elements now covered their bodies.

"The Sages…" Knil gripped the dirt floor below him, his hands trembling. They had come after him, they had found him. "What do you want from me?!"

The Sage directly in front of him floated forward and looked down at Knil accusingly. "You are the all that is left of the hero. You are the only one who can raise Hyrule from the depths of despair where it is headed."

Knil looked up at the bright, identical faces above him, all scowling down at him with permanent masks of superiority and contempt. He would not bow to them.

"No." Knil replied calmly, standing tall in defiance.

"What?!" The front Sage thundered as the others whispered amongst themselves. "You would leave Hyrule to its doom?!"

"Hyrule is none of my concern!" Knil shouted back, stepping up insolently to confront the Sage. "Hyrule cared nothing for me in my hour of need! Why should I care for Hyrule's need?!"

"It is your destiny." said another Sage, stepping up besides the first. "You cannot escape your duty to the world."

"Yes. I. Can." Knil turned to the second Sage, crimson eyes alight. "It isn't my destiny, it was Link's! And I am not _Link_!" Knil whirled around, making sure to address every Sage as he spoke. "Link was a fool. So tangled up was he in his so-called duty, that he had no life of his own! He had no family, no close friends, not even a home of his own. He let Princess Zelda pass him by; he never pursued his personal destiny! And now he's gone. Well I won't be like him. I have a reason to live, something personal to care for! And I won't abandon that to run off and play hero."

From the back came forward another Sage, cutting through the crowd, his face hovering just above Knil's imposingly. "Our purpose is to protect our fair land of Hyrule. We shall do whatever it takes. Even if it means ridding you of any… hindrances."

Knil glared defiantly for a moment, before the meaning behind those words sunk in, his eyes widening in horror. "Don't you touch her! Don't you even come near!"

"We will do what we have to do to save Hyrule. Not that she'll last long, even without our interference. It won't be long before the storms spread and this town too is consumed by the growing sea." The circle of Sages tightened around Knil, all the while chanting promises to the mighty land of Hyrule.

"No!" Knil screamed, pushing his way through, and ran back towards town, as fast as his legs would carry him.

He crashed through the woods in a blur, into the town, through the streets to the crop fields, and straight over them into Auntie's house. The old midwife was there, waiting to chide him. Knil heard not a word of her rantings as he dashed right passed her and slammed open the door to Malon's room.

And there she was, sitting up in bed, a bundle of blankets held in her arms, safe.

"Knil?" She wiped the tears from her eyes, struggling to choke out an explanation. "Please don't be upset, Knil. I know how you feel, but please just try to—"

Knil rushed down beside Malon and crushed her to his chest protectively, possessively. He wouldn't let them have her.

"Knil?" Malon leaned back and looked up at him with tear-stained eyes. Something wriggled uncomfortably between them and began to whine weakly. Malon pulled away, cradling the bundle of blankets in her arms, and the baby wrapped in them.

The golden-haired infant looked up with bleary blue eyes. He was the spitting image of Link. Knil understood, Malon had been worried about his reaction. And normally, he may have been both furious and deeply hurt, even going so far as to make preposterous accusations. But at the moment, none of it mattered. Suddenly, the idea of Link couldn't bother him anymore. Link was gone, forever. Suddenly, the only thing that mattered in the entire world that mattered was Malon, and whatever mattered to Malon.

"We have to go." Knil said, turning to grab a few essential.

"What? When?" Malon said in confusion. She'd been expecting a humongous Knil-brand power fit.

"Now." Knil turned back to Malon, staring down at the child in her arms nervously, before running out of the room with the supplies he was gathering.

"What? But Knil, I can't travel like this! I just had a baby!" Malon objected. The child in her arms began to cry.

Knil came back into the room, the old midwife trailing behind him and protesting profusely.

"Will you just stay out of it?!" Knil shot down the old midwife in frustration. They didn't have time for distractions. "Malon," Knil sighed. How was he going to explain this? If she knew, she'd probably want him to save Hyrule. But he couldn't do that! He had to stay with Malon and protect her! He had made the decision to stay with her. He wouldn't abandon her, even if she would prefer he did. He had to do what was best for her. "I can't explain, just trust me!"

"Oh, don't you think you're going to get away with this THAT easily—"

"Will you shut up?!" Knil pushed Auntie back, not roughly, but with enough strength to silence her. "We agreed to your methods until the child was born! Well, he's here. Our business with you is finished!"

"Knil!" Malon pursed her lips disapprovingly. The infants cried more loudly. Malon cooed to the baby, rocking the child calm. "I'm not going with you." She whispered, the child quieting into sleep. "I'm sorry."

Even Auntie was shocked silent. Graciously, the old woman backed out of the room, giving the young couple their privacy.

"What?"

"I'm sorry, Knil." Malon replied softly, caressing the sleeping infant's cheek with a gentle fingertip. "But he needs stability; he needs a place to live with a school and friends. I can't keep wandering the world with you. He needs me."

Knil sucked in a breath, his jaw clenched. He'd never imagined she'd ever outright refuse him like this. "Malon…"

"No." Malon cut him off swiftly, while retaining her calm. "I don't want to hear it." She looked up at him with strong, hardened eyes, as he had never seen them. The child had made her strong. "If you aren't ready to be a father, then I can't stay with you Knil. I really am sorry, but my son comes first."

"Our son!" Knil snapped.

Malon blinked, drawn aback.

"Yes, Malon. _Our_ son!" Knil's raised voice woke the infant which began to stir. Knil paid it no mind as he knelt before Malon. "Listen to me! For once, don't just follow what I want for my sake, actually _listen_! We have to go. I can't explain why, but if we stay here…" Knil groaned in exasperation, burying his face in his hands. He could feel Malon starring down at him, considering.

"Your son?" Malon looked down at Knil, at this man who was trying so hard to express _something_. But what? "Then name him."

Knil looked up, befuddled. "What?"

"He needs a name. If he's your son and you really care so much for him, then name him."

Knil glanced at the pink, squishy looking bundle in Malon's arms, straining to feel something for the thing. "I don't." Knil said simply. "I can't say I give a damn about the little parasite. But your Goddesses be damned if I'm not _trying_ here, Malon!" Knil locked his eyes with Malon's intensely, daring her to deny it.

Tears welled in Malon's eyes, her control breaking. "Knil..." She sniffled, trying to keep her composure so as to not alarm the infant in her arms.

"We have to go now, Malon." He murmured, reaching up to cup her face and press a tender kiss against her lips. "This is the last time. We're moving up, to a small village up on a mountain a ways from here. Outset village, it's called."

"And this will be the last time?" said Malon's in a wavy and tearful voice.

"I promise."

And just as quickly as the moment of tenderness had come, it evaporated. Knil stood stiffly and walked to the door, ordering gruffly for Malon to hurry up and meet him outside.

"It's difficult for me to walk right now…"

"Then limp." Knil said sardonically over his shoulder. "Just don't take too long. I'll get our things."

Malon bit her lip, looking down at the fragile infant in her arms. She couldn't be weak. The child needed her strength. She was all he had in this world. She had to protect him, even if she was alone.

"And Malon," Came Knil's voice, indifferent and monotonous, "I… love you."

Malon snapped up to see him, but Knil was already walking away as if nothing had happened. He had never said it before, not once, and now that he did, it had seemed nothing more but an afterthought. It was definitely different than she had imagined, not grand or romantic. But perhaps that's what made it honest.

Malon smiled in spite of herself, a sob escaping from her throat nonetheless. Knil was not an easy person to love, but just when she thought she couldn't take it anymore, he always came through. And he was right; he was trying.

She wasn't alone.

The sun set slowly that evening, painting the sky in all shades of red, orange, and violet. Knil raised Malon up onto the horse before mounting up behind her. Malon rocked the infant in her arms, delighted as the child remained asleep and calm.

"We'll be alright." Knil murmured into her ear, his breath warm against her skin.

Malon smiled bitter-sweetly. She had just begun to call this place home, too.

"Link." Knil said, bringing Malon out of her thoughts.

"Pardon?"

"It fits him." Knil explained, as difficult as it was to say. "And in the end, he may be all that's left of the hero in this world."

Malon didn't understand his meaning, but his effort was incredible. She turned her head to give Knil a small, loving kiss. "Link, then."

And as they rode away from that small town, headed for Outset Mountain on the outskirts of Hyrule, neither of them knew that from then on, every boy in their line would be named after the legendary Hyrule Hero.

Even as hundreds of years passed, and Outset Mountain became Outset Island under the downpour, a young boy with the name and the face of the hero played on the shores of the beach with his sister Aryll; a little girl with the voice and love of animal nature of her ancestor.

And neither knew that somewhere out there, in the vastness of the ocean, the fate of a girl with the blood of a Princess and a legendary hero, was about to cross with theirs.

And not one of the three could have imagined that somewhere in the dark depths of the Great Sea, a magical kingdom waited for them.

But it would not be their destiny to save this land. Rather, they would opt to protect the people they held dear…

…just as the shadow had done so long ago.

_Fin_

* * *

Want more? Check my profile for this story's companion piece, "As The Light Wanes."

But first... please review this chapter? Pretty please?


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